


A Song for the Fallen Maid and the Warg

by Mersgath



Category: Doctor Who, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Boredom, F/F, F/M, Fandom, Literary References & Allusions, Mash-up, Sadness, Stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:24:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 67,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mersgath/pseuds/Mersgath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three companions in the TARDIS are separated into three different distorted timelines. It all started when the Doctor, Clara and Daeltrix encountered a black hole that sucked both the three of them and one chapter each from three of the books of ‘A Song of Fire and Ice’.<br/>Daeltrix now is stuck at Winterfell, encountering Bran and finding a great companion in him.<br/>The Doctor finds himself in King’s Landing, where he knows the TARDIS should have landed after the hole took him in, interfering with not just Sansa Stark’s timeline, but also of the royal family and the whole court.<br/>Lastly, Clara ends up in Meereen, where she meets the Mother of Dragons, and there did she arouse Daenerys’s interest in her.<br/>Now that they are separated, the Doctor is to find a way to rescue both companions before either one dies in the story, before it is too late for any of them to get out at all, and for that to happen, the Doctor must succeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the parts are aimed to be more accurate towards scenes that have been portrayed in the series. The following Fanfiction will intervene with excerpts of series 1 - 5 (OFC), 2 (The Doctor), 4 & 5 (Clara Oswald)

_I don’t remember being in this place…_

 

There was a knock on the door of the room and the boy abed allowed entrance. The girl dressed in silver, who was around his age, or two years his senior, came inside and shut the gate behind her. At the sight of her he smiled. It was so pleasant to see her after spending his long day inside his dorm and hearing Old Nan tell him stories about the White Walkers. Of course, it thrilled him to hear such horrifying things, but nothing could ever compare to the sight of this lovely girl. She had always been beautiful to him, and she was even more so today. Her raven hair hanging half loose and her skin of light toast glimmered at the light.

He always loved to see her.

The maid stood there and smiled meekly, often turning her glance from floor to boy. She had no idea what to do or think. She merely blushed. The young boy grinned even more, and finally he had greeted her after a long while of silence.

“Evening, my lady, it’s always good to see you.”

Her shy smile grew a bit. “And I feel the same for you, my lord.” She took a short pause as she stared at the boy at the bed. “Was there something you needed?”

He pouted his lip. “I just wanted to talk, that’s all.”

Her cheeks turned a bit red. “Well, it’s always good to converse with you, my lord.”

He smiled even more. “How has your day been?”

“Uneventful,” she answered. “The only thing I did today was learn how to sing songs and sew as always. But that was until Arya decided to destroy your sister’s good needlework.”

He laughed at that. Of course Arya would do that, she loved to piss of Sansa like nothing else. “And why did she do that?”

She shrugged. “Probably because she was jealous of her sister’s good work. Or maybe perhaps it was for the sake of annoying her and entertain herself.”

The boy laughed again and again. “Well, we know one thing for sure: mother will not be happy to hear about this.”

“I told Arya to sneak out and do bow and arrows with Robb and Theon instead, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

 

_This didn’t sound right…_

 

Bran gave out a small smirk. “Well, even if she did go to them, mother would still be furious.”

The girl laughed. “I can imagine.”

The boy gave out a small chuckle and for a while again, they stayed silent and stared at each other. Whilst they stared, the boy reached out his hand and the young maid was surprised by this.

“Please, come closer.”

This seemed quite strange to her. Never in his life did he ever ask her to come much closer to him. She wasn’t sure whether she should object to this, but instead she did as she was told and sat beside the young wolf. There and then, he took her hand gently and held it, staring at her eyes with more than just happiness. They seemed more of affection, and that made the girl a bit scared. She could hear her heart thump loudly, her skin running a bit cold… she felt completely petrified. She tried her best to calm down as the boy merely smiled and stared at her with such a tranquil gaze. The maid blinked her eyes as the young wolf went on to speak again.

“I’ wanted to speak to you about something I’ve heard from a little bird.”

 _A little bird?_ The girl could only nod and look at him attentively.

“Someone’s told me that you have certain feelings for me.”

 

_There was something definitely wrong here._

 

The girl blushed. “R-really?” she laughed nervously. “And who told you that?”

He laughed a bit. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you that, I promised them not to.”

 

_Something was definitely not right here._

 

Did she really have feelings for the young boy? She really didn’t remember that, but her heart beating fast and her skin going hot and cold said it was so. Her throat felt dry and the girl could only hear her soft hyperventilating, nothing more. Her heart was beating so fast, she was even wondering to herself whether she was going to die anytime soon. The girl closed her eyes, avoiding the thought of the way the boy would look at her at all. Instead of hearing his voice, what she felt was his hand, reaching towards her cheek and caressing it gently, as if it were his last day on earth. That made the maid flinch and opened her eyes she did again. She seemed surprised that the gaze of the young wolf was serene and affectionate instead. He kept beaming at her, paying his thumb against the soft skin of her face. She felt her face turn redder as she felt him. The boy gave out another soft chuckle and assured her:

“It’s alright. I know how you must feel right now. I hope you forgive me for speaking of this.”

Maybe she should go. Maybe she should just leave him to his rest and bother him no more. This was making her nervous, and talking about such feelings made her really uncomfortable. The girl gulped thin air and gently shoved his hand to the bed as she looked from side to side and glanced at him sheepishly.

“I-if there’s nothing else to talk about… maybe I should go.”

Before she was able to leave, she had been stopped by the gentle grip of his hand. At that, the girl gazed at their hands joined, and she blinked her eyes in a bit of shock. For a moment she stared and she then gave out a sigh.

“My lord…”

“Daeltrix… please, stay here with me.”

Hearing his gentle and innocent voice… that soft call coming from his lips… it made her have a small shiver down her spine and heart. He called her name so gently and so lovingly… Daeltrix knew this would be too good to be true. No one made her feel this way since her last relationship, not since…

 

_She knew something was wrong here._

 

She could only nod and stay with him. Then, with the other hand he tapped his bed and turned to look at his furred covers, and then back at the girl.

“Lie down with me.”

 

_This was not right._

 

This really made her feel nervous. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but still the urge to do so came to her. But still, she questioned, “And what will your mother say about this?”

He merely smiled. “Don’t worry about that now. I’ll deal with her later.”

What could she do? Obey her young lord and nod. What power did she have to say no to a young lord’s command? None. That much she knew.

The only thing she could do now was nod and lie down. When she did so, she felt his arms wrap around her, and her forehead he pecked. At that she gave out a soft chuckle. She had no idea why, but it just made her react this way. Delighted to hear that light-hearted laugh, Bran stared at her and grabbed her hand once more, placing it at his chest. Right when he did that, Daeltrix could feel his heart beat slowly. That made her memerized. Something abour feeling his heartbeat made her find comfort despite the uneasiness, as if she felt she was meant t be here. But also, she knew something about this was not right.

 

_Why was that?_

 

Bran rubbed his cheek against her head and closed his eyes in a bit of gladness. Feeling her hand against his chest made his heart flutter. He guessed that might be a good thing, seeing as she was right beside him.

“Can you feel that?” At that, Daeltrix nodded. “That’s me, feeling the same way as you do.”

 

_Something was very wrong._

 

The girl seemed to be flattered by this remark. She grinned and asked, “So you love me too?”

He nodded and smiled. “I always have… ever since you came to Winterfell.”

That made her heart beat even harder and faster. This really made her a bit uneasy. Words could not describe how she felt right now, and in this point in time, she had no idea what to do. Thankfully, Bran was the one to say the words instead of her.

“Daeltrix… I know I can’t give you what you would want. I never will be able to and it saddens me. But if this counts, I can still love you.”

At the sound of those words, her eyes glimmered in sadness, yet there was a sparkle of love deep in those hazel eyes of hers. She gave out another sigh and reached her hand to stroke his cheek.

“Then that’s what matters to me, Bran, for I will do the same for you until the day I die.”

For a while they stared at each other once more, losing into the blyss of their own eyes. Daeltrix felt her eyes blink as she slowly approached the boy. As still as he was, he patiently laid there as he closed his eyes and waited for that moment to come, the moment when he was to feel her lips against his for the first time.

He could taste that sweet hint of strawberry and honey lingering in her lips. Nothing was ever sweeter than this. Bran did not want to let go of her and neither did she ever want to let go of him. As they both kissed, their arms wrapped around each other, Bran’s hands caressing her cheek and back and Daeltrix’s fingers were dancing at his hair. None of them wanted to let go, yet the maid knew she shouldn’t be doing this. She knew something was not right, yet she did not know what it was. If this seemed so wrong why did it make her feel good? Why did it feel right?

That, the girl could not understand at all, and her brief moment of pleasure ended as soon as she heard those familiar voices inside her head, loud and clear like rain.

 

“ _Daeltrix! Daeltrix! Wake up!_ ”

“ _Daeltrix!_ ”

 

The maid pulled her lips suddenly away from the young wolf’s. Her eyes glanced from side to side and both shock and perplexion were crawling inside her like a monster, slithering inside a burrow. The poor boy stared at her in utter shock.

“Did you hear that?” she muttered.

He seemed really confused. “Hear what?”

She blinked her eyes and looked at the ceiling. “Those voices… I hear them across the wall.”

She then turned to look at him and felt dreadful. The girl probably sounded so stupid to him, and at the thought of that she turned her gaze at the boy’s chest instead. Amused by the girl’s imagination, Bran chuckled a bit and caressed her as he gave out that sweet innocent smile to her.

“I only hear your voice and mine,” he pointed out as his thumb stroked her cheek gently. “Perhaps you have been reading too many books.”

At that, Daeltrix laughed. Of course she would be imagining things; this is what happens when you read too much crap in more than one hour. She had spent too much time with the numerous tomes she borrowed, it was time she stopped thinking of her daydreams then. Perhaps now she should just focus on Bran alone, and how much of a good time she was having with him. “Perhaps I have.” She stared back at him as she felt her hand reached his. “I’m sorry for being distracted. It will never happen again”

He chuckled. “That’s alright, it happens to me too.”

 

 _This really wasn’t right at all_.

 

The girl beamed, gladdened to know that she was not the only one whose mind could go bonkers. She laughed and smiled, She caressed him and was about to approach his lips, but then those retched voices bothered her once more.

 

“ _Daeltrix, wake up! You’ve been asleep for a while; it’s time to get up!_ ”

 

At that, she flinched again and looked at the ceiling as she did before. She blinked her eyes and questioned with a voice of wariness, “Who’s there?!” She took a pause. “Show yourself!”

Bran squinted his brows a bit. “Is everything alright?”

Daeltrix didn’t answer him. Instead, she followed the annoying voices that called out to her and demanded, “Answer me, for god’s sakes! Who calls?!”

 

“ _Daeltrix, wake up! It’s time to be up now!_ ” she could now hear clearer than before. “ _You rested for too long, you need to be up at your feet now!_ ”

 

The girl’s attention was no longer drawn towards poor Bran, but rather to those eerie and loud noises that she heard inside her head. She kept looking at the ceiling as the voices grew and grew, and it was then when she could no longer take it, and everything faded from her.

 

“ _Daeltrix! DAELTRIX!_ ”


	2. Daeltrix

“Wakey, wakey, you sleepy head!”, said the voice of Clara Oswald.

Dale groaned and got up from the floor of the TARDIS. Time had gone so fast, and she felt as thought it were yesterday when she fought Daleks and Cybermen… or whatever it was that they encountered last time. The girl stirred and sat up. She blinked her eyes and suddenly she found herself to have a book on her lap.

She knew she borrowed this from a friend, but she had forgotten what it was, and to be honest, she had no idea what she was doing with this.

The girl squinted. She took the book and did not remember reading it before she fell asleep.

 

_What happened just then?_

 

“Doctor, what am I doing with this?” Dale questioned.

“Oh,” he hoisted his brow as he played with the console. “You were reading it.”

She still could not comprehend what just happened. “Reading what?”

“ _Game of Thrones_ ,” Clara answered. “ _A clash of Kings_ , A _Storm of Swords_ , _A Feast for Crows_ , _A Dance with Dragons_ , _Winds of Winter_ , need I say more? You read the whole series within a few minutes!”

Dale laughed sarcastically and rolled her. “Well. I’m sorry for being such a forgetful ass, Miss Oswald, but I tend to do that when I wake up from my sleep.”

Clara chuckled while the Doctor raised and eyebrow and said thinkingly, “Well, the time for jokes is over. There seems to be a problem with the TARDIS right now.”

“What kind of problem, Doctor?” Clara turned to the Time Lord.

“I still don’t know, I need to figure it out,” he answered thoughtfully.

As the Doctor kept playing with the consoles of his TARDIS and Miss Oswald observed him, Dale kept rubbing her eyes to wake herself up more properly. She now knew that she was reading the “A Song of Fire and Ice” series by George R. R. Martin, and then she fell asleep when she read ‘Winds of Winter’. Actually, she didn’t even remember starting that book. What did she do then?

 _Oh yes, I was dreaming…_ , she thought to herself. That much she remembered.

As she kept looking around the TARDIS, flashes in her mind came, giving her little remnants of the dream she just had before she was disturbingly woken up by both the Doctor and Clara.

 

She remembered being in another world, one coming from a fictional book…

 

…Oh yes, she was in Winterfell, and she was inside a dorm, and there there was a bed filled with furr… and it felt cold there.

Right here and right now, Dale was recalling her dream. It felt more real than the other delusions she had. She could even feel the touch of someone’s lips, as if it were an invisible mark of some kind.

The girl touched her own lip, still feeling the warmth of the ghost’s kiss… whoever’s kiss it was from.

Now she remember something else. There was a boy inside that room, and he was crippled. He could not move his legs, and his brown eyes looked so innocently. His skin was pale. His hair was growing and dark brown, and something about him made her think of a Stark of Winterfell.

 

Wait… hang on… A Stark of Winterfell… and he was a young teenage boy who could not move his legs and she was kissing him… Hang on! Did that mean she kissed…

 

 _Eewww!!!! What was I thinking?! Why the hell did I have that bloody perverted dream?! What the hell is wrong with me?!_  “Ugh!” she blurted out all of the sudden and felt herself shiver at the thought of that. How could she have dreamt of falling for the fourth child of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, and be in bed with him?! That was just gross! He was much younger than her, and such a stupid thought came inside her head! It was disgusting! It made her think of paedophilia, and that would be the last thing she would ever want to do to anyone at all. Oh gosh… what has the world come to…

“Yuck! That is disgusting!” she accidentally blurted out.

At the sound of her voice, Clara and the Doctor turned to look at her. Both raised their eyebrows and Dale just realized that she had drawn some unwanted attention from them. Clara tilted her head in curiosity and asked:

“Dale, are you alright?”

Lying and widening her eyes a bit: “Oh yes, I’m fine. I-I’m _very_ fine.”

“Hmmm…” Clara stared at her thinkingly. “You saying ‘Ugh!’, ‘Yuck!’ and ‘That is disgusting’ does not tell us both you’re fine.”

“But I am!” she insisted.

“No you’re not,” pointed out the Doctor, who was so busy focusing on the consoles. “You haven’t been ever since you have started reading those books.”

“But Doctor, that’s because they’re so depressing. I’m pretty sure you know that,” she pointed out.

At that, the Doctor rose his eyebrows. “Oh yes, and so I’ve heard.”

“But really, Dale, what is it that disgusted you?” questioned Clara, with a hint of concern. “I really am worried about what you are thinking now.”

How was she going to explain this to them? How was she going to tell them that she had accidentally dreamt of falling in love with a young kid and ended up chilling with him in the bedroom…? Actually, she chilled, _then_ ended up kissing him. This seriously was not right. But then again they still accepted her when she went out with the guy whom the Doctor referred to as ‘Die Mackay’ because he forgot his name. The memory of that still makes her laugh.

Dale looked at both the Doctor and Clara, took a deep breath and began to tell them what it was all about.

“Well… I had a dream,” that was a good way to start.

“Oh, here we go again…” muttered the Doctor in annoyance.

“Doctor!” scolded Clara softly and hit him at the arm. “Pay attention!”

The Doctor gave out an irritated glare and Clara turned to look at the girl again.

“It’s alright,” she assured. “You can tell us.”

Dale nodded sheepishly and for a while she was silent. Then, she spoke again. “I had a dream… involving one of the ‘Game of Thrones’ characters.”

“Ah! Thrilling!” he remarked satirically.

“Well, that is quite interesting,” Clara said. “Which one?”

“Umm…” It was now time, she knew. “Bran Stark.”

When he heard the name, the Doctor stopped fidgeting with the TARDIS. He turned his gaze towards her and gave out that shocked look on his face. Clara blinked her eyes, wondering why a dream had led to a young little boy coming from a fictional book. Yes, it did seem like they have heard some strange news.

“Bran Stark?!” questioned the Doctor. “Why on earth would you have a dream about a little boy?”

Ignoring the Doctor, Clara asked, “And what happened there in your dream?”

Dale was about to open her mouth and speak. However, she stopped herself. If she said anything further, this would really get into an awkward conversation, and that was the last thing the girl wanted. Instead of telling her what actually happened, she shook her head and said, “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

“Trust you?!” the Doctor exclaimed. “What for?!”

“Doctor, stop mucking about!” scolded Clara again. “This isn’t funny!”

“No, I know it isn’t. Daeltrix having a dream… oh yes, that doesn’t sound good, especially after she had read one of those retched books.”

“They are not retched!” argued the girl.

“Doctor, just shut up and listen, alright?!” exclaimed Clara. “Geez… you really are like a kid!”

The Doctor groaned, rolled his eyes and carried on with the TARDIS. The woman turned to look at the fourteen year old girl again and asked, “Now why would we not want to know?”

Dale blinked her eyes and faltered for one moment. She didn’t really want to tell them what happened in the dream. It was predictable enough that the Doctor would make fun of her and not get over it until later, at least Clara was much calmer than that. But still, she didn’t feel like telling them even if she had to.

“Because… you really wouldn’t want to know. I-it’s strange and… kinda gross…”

“How is it gross?” she asked.

“Well, it’s gross in a way that at first everything is normal, then you know something about that dream is strange.”

Clara still didn’t understand. Neither did the Doctor. They both stared at each other, and then turned back to the fourteen year old girl. Dale looked at both of them and grumbled. She could not believe she had to explain it to them.

“I kissed him and chilled with him in bed.”

At that, both of them dropped their mouths open.

“WHAT?!” the Doctor was the first one to react. “You slept with a kid… OF THIRTEEN YEARS OLD?!”

“I did not sleep with him! I was chilling with him!” she corrected.

“And so you chilled?”

She nodded sheepishly. “Yes… I did…”

“Ugh! This is just sick!” the Doctor exclaimed and flappered his hands up like a whining magician. “Seriously, how old are you exactly?!”

She blinked her eyes, surprised at the fact that the Doctor forgot. “I’m fourteen, turning fifteen. I’m pretty sure you know that.”

“Oh!” Clara eased off her shocked gaze. “So the character would almost be around your age, then.”

“Pretty much…” answered the girl awkwardly and added, “…give or take a few years.”

“And it didn’t lead into anything more serious, right?” she questioned.

That thought made Dale cringe. Why on earth would she lead a young kid to do such things if he is that innocent?! That would be just wrong. “Thankfully no,” she said, half-wingingly.

“Oh you see? This is what happens when you read books!” complained the Doctor. “You read a page and then perverted dreams begin to plague your mind.”

Dale yelped in offense. “I beg your pardon, I don’t usually dream perverted dreams! Usually they involve me being in that world or hanging out with the characters, thank you very much! And this was the first time I have dreamt of being in bed, chilling and kissing a thirteen year old!”

He scoffed. “And the thought of that is still gross…”

“Maybe you should take a break from reading the books, Dale,” suggested Clara. “They told me that reading such books everyday is not good for you. …Not to mention that it is giving you some weird dreams.”

“Yes…” agreed the Doctor in a mutter. “Listen to Doctor Clara, she’s right about that.”

“Doctor…” muttered the woman.

“Clara, I’m not making fun of you!” he assured. “I’m agreeing with you. How can we stand a companion that reads such things in the TARDIS?!”

“Oh Doctor, I know what she was dreaming of was wrong, but it does not mean she will do any of that in real life!”

He scoffed. “Let’s hope not!”

Dale gave out a sigh. Perhaps the Doctor and Clara were right. This book had been plaguing her mind for a while, and eventually it had turned into an obsession. Perhaps it was time to set aside the books and focus more on the time travels, the time she was spending with both of them. The girl gave out a tired smile and nodded.

“You’re right, Doctor and Clara. I probably think too much about the book.” She took a short pause. “It’s time for me to take a break from them.”

Clara grinned whilst the Doctor exhaled in gratitude of the agreement. They were all silent just then.

 

But suddenly…

 

The rumbling happened as soon as they have stopped talking. The TARDIS was shaking, and Clara, Dale and the Doctor almost fell to the ground. The lights flickered themselves and sparks came out of the consoles of the spaceship. No one knew what on earth had just occurred then.

“Doctor! What’s happenning?!” questioned Dale.

“I don’t know,” he answered in a bit of anxiety. “Let me check.”

The Time Lord ran towards the screen and turned it so he could have a good look at it, and from the facial expression the girl saw, she knew it was something bad.

“Oh no, no, no No, NO, NO NO!” he exclaimed. “NO! This can’t be happening!”

“What?! What is it?!” questioned Clara as the TARDIS kept trembling.

“We’re getting sucked into a black hole! We must try to move it away from there!”

As soon as she heard what was happening, Dale began to panic, as did Clara Oswald. Now they knew there was nothing wrong with the TARDIS, but the surroundings outside caused it to react in this way. They both ran towards the consoles of the TARDIS and held on, trying to fidget with the triggers and buttons as the Doctor did to try and drive it away from that hole. It kept shaking and the electrical sparkles kept coming. Sometimes, they even spat at Dale and almost poked her eye out.

The three of them kept struggling. They kept holding on as the TARDIS shook even more violently, and everything they did did not work. It was as if it were counteracting every single little thing they tried, and eventually the doors of the spaceship opened by force. A great wind entered inside and the Doctor, Clara and Daeltrix turned to see the darkness that was before them all. Everything was being blown off, and pages coming from books were being absorbed. Dale looked around and every object that was placed inside the TARDIS was being destroyed.

How the hell did they come to be in this place if they didn’t even plan on going towards a black hole?

Dale turned to look at Clara, who struggled against the wind the most. She blinked her eyes and  tried to reach for the woman’s hand. By then, it was too late though. The strong wind took Clara and dragged her towards the hole. All they could hear was her scream fading, and all they could see was Clara disappearing inside that hole.

“CLARA! NO! NO!” Dale screamed and she then turned to the Doctor, who was just as shocked as she was. “DOCTOR! WE HAVE TO GET CLARA BACK!”

“BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW!” shouted back the Doctor. “THIS HOLE IS SUCKING US IN AND CLARA IS ALREADY GONE!”

Dale struggled, and still she had the strength to scream at him like a mad woman and hit every single trigger of the TARDIS. “WE HAVE TO TRY! WE CAN’T LEAVE HER THERE! WE HAVE TO RESCUE HER!”

“I’M TRYING TO THINK, DAELTRIX! IF IT WERE THAT SIMPLE WE’D BE GETTING CLARA AND WE’D BE OUT OF HERE ALREADY!”

Then, the TARDIS shook more than just violently. This was beyond it. It shook up and down. Parts of the spaceship were falling apart and exploding. At that, Dale screamed and the Doctor gave out a surprised grunt. They both looked around and the wind came back to them. This time though, it was trying to drag Dale out of the TARDIS.

“AaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGH!!!!!!!!”

The wind took her and dragged her, but just in time, the Doctor caught her hand.

“DAELTRIX!” he screamed. “HOLD ON!”

The girl grunted, tried to pull herself towards the TARDIS but the wind seemed too strong for her. Nevertheless, she kept fighting. Why won’t the wind leave her alone, though?

She felt her hands slowly slipping from the Doctor’s grip. Dale widened her eyes and the Doctor kept readjusting his hand.

“I SAID HOLD ON, YOU STUPID GIRL!” he screamed.

“I AM HOLDING ON YOU STUPID OLD MAN!” she retorted. “THE WIND IS TOO STRONG AND YOUR HANDS ARE SWEATY!”

Everything seemed to be faring slowly. The Doctor squinted. It was as if his eyes were trying to give more strength to the body, but nothing happened. The hands slowly slipped away from each other. Dale tried her best t hold on, but the wind was winning the match. Nothing could stop her from being dragged away, and not even the Doctor could save her now.

Eventually, the hands let go and the girl was being absorbed inside the black hole.

“AAAAAAAAHHH!!! DOCTOR!!!! DOCTOR!!!!!”

“DAELTRIX!!!!!”

The girl kept screaming, both her hands trying to reach towards the TARDIS. She felt herself spin around and around, the dark tornado took her in. Her hair blew violently and slowly she felt her eyes close, leading her to let blackness take over her as she was led into the unknown depths of the black hole.

 


	3. Bran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This interferes with the part where Bran almost gets kidnapped by Wildlings

He didn’t remember how far he rode. Bran was on his horse, trying out the new saddle in the godswood and his brother and Theon were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had enjoyed his horseriding too much, and now he seemed to be a bit lost. But still, he kept chuckling and smiling, happy about the new design of the saddle. At least now it made him feel like a normal boy again, and it worked well for him. Next time he was to see Tyrion Lannister, Bran noted to thank him for the gift. But now there were other things to think about now.

He was happy right now, but that feeling was beginning to be foreshadowed by a growing fear.

He glanced from side to side, now growing concerned that perhaps he had ridden too far for Robb and Theon to look after him. He couldn’t remember which parts of the woods he was at and now he was alone and a bit afraid. How was he to get back home if he wasn’t guided by his big brother and his friend? He took one moment for himself and thought about turning back now.

 

SNAP!

 

Bran turned to look at one side of the forest. Then, another. The twig that snapped a few seconds ago was already enough to make him scared of what could happen if he didn’t find Robb and Theon. He hoped against all odds that his big brother and Theon will find him first, but right now he found that unlikely.

At the sight of them, Bran gasped in a bit of shock. Out of the trees, a group of people came out, a people unknown to him… a people that looked like they came from the wild regions of the north… a people that would seem keen enough to kill him. Right now, he really wished he did not wander away from Robb and Theon.

 “Oh, look what we have here,” said one of them.

“All alone in the deep dark woods?” the woman questioned in derisive consolation as she tilted her head.

Bran tried his best to look proud and brave, but right now he felt the opposite. “I’m not alone! My brother is with me.”

The man that seemed to be the leader of the pack darted is eyes at the little boy and said sardonically. “I don’t see him. Got him hidden under your cloak?”

Bran was scared. What on earth was he to do if he had no weapon with him and had nowhere to run now that he was surrounded by unfriendly strangers?

The woman tilted her head to the other side and looked right at the clasp.

“Ooh… that’s a pretty pin…” she said admiringly as Bran covered it with his hand defendingly. “It’s silver…”

“We’ll take the pin and the horse,” demanded the leader. “Get down from there, and fast!”

Bran felt himself shake, and for a moment he faltered until he could find the strength to answer, “I-I can’t! The saddle… the straps…”

At that, the strangers looked at him with a confused glare and then turned to his saddle. They moved his cape aside and realized that he was tied to the horse. Bran saw that it made them even more puzzled.

“What’s wrong with you?” questioned one of the men.

“Are you some kind of cripple?” questioned the leader.

Bran felt very insulted at that. He felt his anger boil at the mere mention of the word, and cried to them, “I am Brandon Stark of Winterfell! If you don’t let me be I’ll have you all killed!”

But that didn’t seem to frighten them Of course, how could they be scared of a defenceless ten year old boy who was stuck in his saddle. The leader took out his dagger and the other man laughed.

“Caught his litter, cock off and stuff it in his mouth!”

“Boy’s worth nothing dead,” said the woman. “Benjen Stark’s own blood… Think what Mance would give us!”

Bran winced as the straps on his legs were being slashed off and received a cut at his leg.

“Oh fuck Mance Ryder!” exclaimed othe leader. “And fuck the North! We’re going south as far as south goes!” He shook his head and went on to get Bran off the horse with the other man as he muttered, “There ain’t no White Walkers at Dorne…”

“Drop the knife!” a sudden voice demanded.

They all turn to see who it was that spoke, and to Bran’s relief, it was his brother Robb, who was taking out his sword and said:

“Let him go and I’l let you live!”

The strangers look at each other for a brief while. Then they turned to look at Robb again. Suddenly, one of the strangers decided to shout a wordless cry and got his axe out. He came at Robb, but he missed him by a heartbeat. He swung at him once more, twice and thrice. He missed again and again and again. Then, Robb spun his sword and slit the man’s throat. Blood dripped out of there and the stranger fell to his death. Then, the other people decided to go and fight Bran’s older brother, while the leader of the pack was cutting out he straps. Bran could see Robb fighting the other people with ease, defending himself against the woman and then grabbing her by her hair, and then he stabbed another through his stomach. Once the rest of them were dead, all but the woman, Robb turned to show that he held her hostage. Bran called out to his brother, now realizing that he was a hostage to the leader of the pack as well. Shaking and wincing, Bran could feel the tip of the blade against his skin. He saw his brother’s distraught face, and now it all seemed even more hopeless as he struggled against the man an muttered his brother’s name.

“Robb!”

“Shut up!” exclaimed the leader to the boy. Then, he turned to Robb. “Drop the blade!”

Bran shook his head. He knew that if he did the man would have a chance to kill his older brother, and that was the last thing Bran wanted from this. “No, don’t!”

“DO IT!” yelled the man.

Everyone stood still. Robb stared at his young brother for a while, thinking of what could happen if he did as the man said. Bran continusly shook his head, trying to persuade his brother not to, seeing as it could be possible that either way the man was going to kill him or Robb. Robb, however slowly placed his weapon down. He kept an eye on the leader as he did so and finally stood up.

Suddenly, an arrow flew and hit the leader through the heart. There and then, the man died and let go of Bran. The boy fell to the floor as did the stranger. Robb saw that the arrow came from Theon, who was now approaching the here of them. Robb went to Bran as Theon pointed an arrow at the strange woman.

“Are you alright?” asked Robb as he picked up his brother and saw that he had a cut at his thigh.

“Yes…” Bran muttered in a bit of relief. Then, he glanced at his wound for a brief while and added, “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Soft little lad!” Theon called out.

At that, both Robb and Bran turned to look at him.

“In the Iron Islands, you’re not considered a man until you’ve killed your first enemy.” At the mere mention of that, Robb and Bran saw all the strangers dead, and Bran could feel that his brother felt a small pang of anger deep inside him. “Well done,” congratulated Theon.

At that, Robb glared at him in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind?! What if you’ve missed?!”

“He would have killed you and cut Bran’s throat!” pointed out Theon.

Robb shook his head disapprovingly. “You don’t have a right to—”

“To what? To save your brother’s life?!” Theon finished off for him. “It was the only thing to do, so I did it!”

Bran stared at his brother for a brief while. He saw the angry stare ease off a bit and gave out a sigh. Bran guessed that he should at least he grateful that Theon got him off the grip of the man, and now he was safe with his brother. Robb looked at the woman and questioned as if he wanted some advice, “What about her?”

Both Bran and Theon turned their gazes at her again. The woman whimpered, shook. There was fear in her eyes and Bran merely stared at her. She may have been part of the group of strangers, but he knew even then she didn’t deserve to die, at least not like this. Theon was about to charge an arrow at her, but the woman quivered her lips and crawled towards Robb.

“Give me my life, my lord,” she begged, “And I’m yours!”

They all stood silent for a while. How were they all to keep her alive if she was one of the people that tried to kill Bran? But then again, it might be useful to keep her in the castle and keep an eye on her. So, it was decided. Bran saw Robb turn his eye on him and said, “We’ll keep her alive.”

The woman cried in relief and thanked Robb for his mercy. Theon groaned, rolled his eyes and lowered his arrow, then placing them back inside the quiver.

“We’ll take her with us. We’re going back to Winterfell.”

At that, Theon and Bran agreed (after all, he didn’t want the same thing to happen again).

“And Bran,” Robb addressed to the little boy, “promise me that next time you won’t go too far from us, alright?”

Bran stared at him meekly and nodded. “Yes, Robb.”

Then, he grinned at him. “Good, and make sure you keep your word.”

Bran managed a grin and looked at his older brother apologetically. But soon, their little moment was to be over.

Long and for a while they walked whilst Bran held onto Robb and the horse was brought by Theon. The woman kept up with them, walking  side by side with the Lord Regent of the North and the man born from Pyke, and eyeing the godswood every now and then. Bran glanced around and appreciated the woods. Of course, he wouldn’t let something like this ruin his day, so he distracted his mind with the sound of birds and the sight of trees. It made him feel comforted for a little while, but that was until Theon crouched down and exclaimed:

“Robb! Look!”

At that, Robb  placed Bran onto the horse, telling him to hold on to it tightly, turned to the same direction as Theon and approached him. The woman tilted her head in curiosity as she held the rope of the saddle whilst Bran held onto the stallion and saw what Robb and Theon had seen. They held onto pieces of parchments and eyed them in confusion.

“What on earth is this doing here?” questioned Robb as he gazed at the letters.

“I have no idea…” answered Theon as he gazed at the Stark man.

Robb grunted and lookd at the way ahead. More pages were on the ground, and the man blinked his eyes and muttered, “Let’s follow the parchment and see where it leads us.”

One by one, they collected the pieces of parchment. Seemingly, it was making a little path for them to follow. In total they took at least ten pages thus far, and Bran did not understand why they would find them in the godswood. Gods knew why it would be here!

Theon went ahead as Robb walked and had a brief look at the parchment they found. As they collected all the pages, they felt closer to home and it was then when Theon saw a figure lying down on the ground.

 “Here!” exclaimed Theon in fascination, all of the sudden. “A girl!”

At that, both Robb, Bran and the woman approached carefully and saw the sight that was before them all. A girl with Raven hair, lying down with her eyes closed. They could see that she wore some kind of a patterned gown with strange boots and strange tight breeches, which seemed to act like a second skin. Her arms and shoulders were covered by some kind of jacket that was made out of an unknown material. Around her, more pieces of parchment laid there and none of them knew where that came from. Slowly, Robb and Theon took a few steps while Bran held onto his horse and the woman stood still. Bran could see that both men were looking at her in curiosity and wondered about her. Robb tilted himself and muttered more to himself:

“This is quite curious… Where do you think she comes from?”

Theon chuckled and smirked. “Who cares? She’s a girl!” Then, he turned to eye Bran in a bit of amusement. “Probably Bran’s age, at that! Perfect time for the boy to begin fucking a woman, aye?”

Bran frowned at Theon’s crude joke, which he did not appreciate at all, while Robb turned to look at Theon and gave another glare of disapproval. Of course, Bran was far too young to think of these things, and what Robb’s friend said made him feel sheepish. As soon as Theon saw that, his smile faded and his joke stopped. Then, Robb went down to have a closer look at the surroundings. He first took the rest of the parchment and stared at them for a long while. This time, he could only see strange words written on it. He could see his little brother’s name on it as well as his and Theon’s. It even mentioned Wildlings. Robb grunted in thought and collected more as he then headed towards the girl.

Bran stared at his brother, fearing that it could be a trap of some sort. After what just happened a few minutes ago, he could not put his hopes up, that perhaps it would be a helpless person laying there unconscious, and for all they knew, the girl could be a bandit pretending to be helpless… or perhaps she was dead.

Bran stared down at the body of the girl and questioned, “Do you think she’s dead?”

Robb approached a bit more, finally standing before the girl and crouched down. He had a good look at the stranger and touched her wrist, feeling a light pulse against her light toasted skin. He then took out a knife to check on the girl’s breath. He saw a smoky fog form in the blade. She was still breathing. Thus far, Robb saw nothing serious, nothing that he could see anyway. The son of Eddard Stark turned to face Bran and answered, “She’s still alive, merely unconscious.” Then, he turned to Theon. “Theon, take the girl with you.”  At that, Theon obliged. He then approached his younger brother and said, “Bran, you hold on to this, alright?”

Bran merely nodded. Then, as Theon carried the girl, Robb went back to carrying his brother, and the strange woman held onto the saddle of the horse, bringing it back as Bran eyed his hands. They held tightly onto the pages the found at the ground, the numerous pages that got his older brother curious. He eyed them and wondered why they would be leading to a girl, and why more of these surrendered her in the godswood. Hopefully, they would get answers as soon as they would get back to Winterfell.


	4. Tyrion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This interferes with the public beating of Sansa

He was distraught. Just then, he had heard that Sansa Stark had been dragged all the way to the Throne Room to answer for her brother’s crimes. Having this knowledge, he called Bronn and got him to accompany on his way to the Throne Room, passing through stairs, passageways and some doors. Of course, he did turn a few corners as well.  Once he arrived at the grand doors, they were slammed open, and there he found  the king, the witnesses, his second cousin Lancel, the Hound, Ser Meryn Trant and Sansa, who was teary-eyed, stripped and about to be beaten. Joffrey stood there, surprised at the fact that his uncle entered inside with the Commander of the City Watch.

“What is the meaning of this?!” those were the first words that came from the dwarf’s mouth.

As soon as they saw him, people formed a path for Tyrion and Bronn to walk through, and Ser Meryn Trant stepped away from Sansa Stark. The dwarf’s eyes were first drawn towards that man.

“What kind of knight beats a helpless girl?!” he critizised.

“The kind that serves his king, imp!” Ser Meryn spat.

“Careful now,” warned Bronn. “We don’t want to get blood all over your pretty white cloak.”

At that, Tyrion saw the slight fear drawn in Ser Meryn Trant’s face and that brought him a bit of satisfaction. Then, his eyes were on Sansa again, filled with pity for her, and disgust towards his nephew.

“Someone get the girl something to cover herself with!”

In an instant, the Hound walked towards Sansa and gave her a large cloak that was enough to cover her. Meawhile, Tyrion took a few steps towards the stairs that led to the throne, looked at his nephew boldly and retorted:

“She’s to be your Queen! Have you no regard for her honour?!”

“I am punishing her!” protested Joffrey.

“For what?!” questioned Tyrion. “Her brother’s crimes?! She is not fighting Robb Stark’s war, you halfwit!”

“You can’t talk to me like that!” he exclaimed. “I am the King and I do as I like!”

Tyrion smirked a bit as Joffrey said those words. _Oh you odeful idiot…_

“The Mad King did as he liked,” he reminded more calmly. “Has your uncle Jaime ever told you what happened to him?”

At that, Ser Meryn intervened and spoke with an angry tone, “No one threatens his Grace in the presence of the Kingsguard!”

Tyrion scoffed and eyed him. “I am not threatening the life of my nephew, Ser, I am educating him.” He then turned to the sellsword. “Bronn, the next time Ser Meryn Trant breathes another word, kill him.”

At that, the man fell silent and glared at the dwarf disbelievingly. Tyrion then turned to look at Ser Meryn Trant again. “Now that’s a threat,” pointed out Tyrion to the White Cloak. “See the difference?”

They were all quiet. Some looked at him in shock, especially Joffrey, who hated the thought of someone like him intervening with a trial. Despite the different gapes they all gave, Tyrion’s eyes were only directed at Sansa, who was still on her knees and covered herself with a robe given by the Hound. The dwarf reached out his hand and offered it to the Stark girl. Sansa blinked her teary eyes, shocked that someone like Tyrion would show her some kindness. Of course, the dwarf took pity on those who had a hard time, and right now Sansa Stark was one of them. He could only imagine the humiliation she had to go through when losing her father and when standing here in front of everyone so to answer for her older brother’s crimes. This was certainly something the girl didn’t deserve, and for all of this, Tyrion felt sorry for her.

Sansa took his hand reluctantly, and with the help of the dwarf she stood up meekly, still looking like a sad ghost, and in frustration, Joffrey stared, widened his eyes in fury and muttered to himself. People parted and made their way out of the Throne Room, murmuring and eyeing the dwarf as he escorted Lady Stark out of there.

“I am so sorry about my nephew’s behavior,” he said this to Sansa genuinely.

Sansa said nothing in return.

People left and the dwarf kept speaking to her. It was then when he decided to offer her a chance to end this cruel betrothal for her.

“Tell me the truth. Do you want an end to this engagement?”

“I  am loyal to King Joffrey,” she said tearingly whilst avoiding the dwarf’s gaze. “He’s my one true love.”

Suddenly, Tyrion stopped walking, so surprised at the answer he had gotten from the innocent girl. As he stood there, he saw Sansa leave as well as some ladies that were present today. He tilted his head slightly and stared at her for a while.

“Lady Stark…” he murmured himself in both sadness and awe. “You may survive this yet…”

Bronn grunted in agreement as he watched them all leave, along with the dwarf. Once everyone left, strange events began to happen now.

 

“CLARA!” he heard a man cry out. “DAELTRIX! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

 _Where in the seven hells did that come from?_ The man from Lannister thought.

At first, he had no idea, but then he saw who was the one shouting.

Tyion raised an eyebrow as a thin man with a long thin  wrinkled face and ferocious eyebrows came out of the corner and looked from side to side. He wore strange clothes, and he certainly was not someone he ever saw at Fleabottom or in the Capital, let alone anywhere else in Westeros. He looked too different to be here. The sellsword grunted in question as he, also, stared at the man who turned from side to side like a lunatic.

“Who on earth is he?” asked Bronn more to himself.

Tyrion blinked his eyes. “I have no idea.” He took a pause as he stared at the man for a while more. “Let me handle this.”

At that, Bronn nodded and the imp went to approach the strange man that would not stop shouting.

“Excuse me,” spoke Tyrion as he finally stood before the extreme tall man. “Are you alright there?”

“Yes, I’m fine, I’m the Doctor,” he presented himself briefly. “Where am I?”

Bronn and Tyrion looked at each other. Then, they turned back to him.

“Why… you’re in King’s Landing, of course,” answered Bronn.

“Don’t be stupid! King’s Landing is not real!” insisted the Doctor.

Tyrion scoffed. “Then, if King’s Landing is not real, then I must not be a dwarf but a handsome prince.”

The Doctor looked at the dwarf in utter shock. He probably wondered what the Lannister was talking about, and that amused Tyrion slightly.

“You _are_ in King’s Landing, you tall idiot, and you have to accept that whether you like it or not. They all tell me I’m half a man, what the hell are you then? Brainless?”

“Don’t insult me, _Dwarf_!” retorted the Doctor. “I am much more brilliant than the likes of you.”

“Ah, ah, ah, careful now…” this was the second time Bronn said this today, and that made Tyrion laugh slightly. “We do not want to end up in a bloody fight, do we?”

The Doctor blinked his eyes and widened. By now, the man would have realized that Bronn wouldn’t be someone he should mess with, given the strength that he had and the scary yet calm look on his face, Tyrion noted. The extremely tall man looked sheepishly at the both of them and tutted at himself. He gave one blink with both eyes and said nothing. For a while he stared with a puzzled look, whilst both Tyion and Bronn waited for him to say something. Finally he asked the question he should have asked before he even thought about insulting the Hand of the King.

“Who are you, by the way? I never asked.”

Tyrion turned to look at Bronn and then back at the Doctor. The imp gave out a grunt and answered, “Why, I am Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King.”

As soon as he heard the name, the Doctor looked even more in shock, which Tyrion did not understand. He just told this man who he was, and he only thing he did was glare at him with a strange gaze. His mouth was dropped open, his ferocious brow furrowed and there was only one word that could come out of his mouth with full surprise: “WHAT?!”


	5. The Doctor

The Doctor walked from corridor to corridor with Tyrion Lannister, if that’s what you would call these retched outside looking things. The Time Lord couldn’t even undertand how this castle worked. It looked like he was outdoors, yet he was indoors. The concept of that made the Doctor very confused indeed. He was surprised that the dwarf didn’t call for guards, but then again perhaps Tyrion Lannister had something else in mind for him. Finally, they reached inside the Hand of the King’s dorm, and that made the Doctor even more perplexed. It was as if the dwarf had a terrace and once the Time Lord went to there for a brief while, he saw a nice view of the beach. That seriously seemed very wrong to the Doctor. He blinked his eyes in shock and dread as he questioned:

“What the hell? Do you have a view of the sea and the town?”

Tyrion laughed. “That’s a far sight of Blackwater Bay you’re seeing, as well as King’s Landing.”

He blinked his eyes. “Why on earth would you need a view of this?”

The dwarf shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps whoever built this castle thought about giving the best shit to the Hand of the King.”

The Doctor suddenly laughed at that, not because he agreed, but because the answer he gave amused him. _Oh, that’s a good one…_ It certainly sounded like something Daeltrix would say in a bored moment.

Tyrion walked towards his table, got on a chair and took another one out for the Time Lord. “Please, sit down.”

The Doctor turned towards the table and headed for the offered chair. It seemed really polite of him to let him get comfortable, but then again, there would be something deep in that dwarf’s mind. The Doctor noted himself to be vigiliant and careful when speaking to the Lannister imp. He sat down and faced the dwarf, who was smiling and pouring two cups of wine. Tyrion took one whilst he offered the other to the Time Lord.

“Wine, Doctor?” he asked politely.

The Doctor gave out a grin back at him and nodded. “Thank you.”

He then took the cup and merely held it. He still wasn’t sure whether it was safe to drink it, despite the dwarf’s nice gesture. Tyrion took a sip off his goblet and eyed the Time Lord. He gave out a small gasp as he finished with the brief drinking and blinked his peculiar green eyes. The Doctor certainly thought them cunning.

“So tell me, Doctor… why are you lost, and how did you come to be here?”

He didn’t feel like telling him anything. How did he know he could trust the dwarf if he had just met him, and none of his companions were at his side? “I really rather not say,” he answered honestly. “How do I know you will not do harm if I barely know you?”

Tyrion chuckled at that. “I am a man of my word, and I promise that I won’t do anything bad as long as you don’t. A Lannister always pays his debts.”

 _Those words were not ones to trust_ , the Doctor thought. “Hmmm… that’s interesting. I have met plenty of people that said something similar, and in the end they always try to kill my friends… and one specifically, at that.”

“Oh, is your friend a trouble maker?” questioned the dwarf as he poured himself another drink.

“No, no,” he replied. “Trouble rather likes to find her.” And at the thought of that, he smiled. He smiled, thinking about the earlier adventures he had with just Clara, and how much excitement she brought in his life. She was even more exciting than the bookworm that dreamt of a kid that was two years her senior. “It seems… attracted to her.”

The dwarf laughed once more. “Oh yes, I can see what you mean. Trouble often finds me as well… or at least accompanies the pleasures of drinking and fucking.”

 _Drinking and fucking?_ The Doctor really wished he could understand what Tyrion was saying. In fact, even if he hated to admit it he really wished that Daeltrix could explain to him what kind of character this dwarf would be. _Yes, that would have made it much easier_. “How so?”

“Oh, I start drinking, I fuck a woman, and then I sometimes get lectures from my father,” Tyrion explained. “Ha, hah, funny how he still does that and I’m a grown man.”

“Right…” the Doctor really didn’t want to know any more of this. He took a small sip from his goblet and then went on to talk again. “Well, I’m sure he has his reasons, but seeing as it’s none of my business, it’s best that we should stop talking of that now.”

“Hmm, I agree.” The dwarf was now up to his third drink. _How much could such a person of small stature take?!_ “You do seem to feel a bit sheepish when I mentioned this…” he drank from his cup. “Anyway, enough about me, I told you more than what you should know. Tell me more about yourself.”

“He, he, heh, I rather not,” he answered as he took another gulp of wine. “I rather get to know a person first before I tell them of my happenings.”

“Oh, why Doctor, I think you need to mellow yourself a bit. You really shouldn’t fear me like you should the others.”

This time, the Doctor looked more serious than before. “It’s not that I fear you, Lannister. It is rather that I, with my intelligence and my wit, do not trust you.” He took a short pause. “And I highly doubt you would even be able to help me with whatever I need.”

Tyrion pouted his lip a bit. “Well, I’m here all day. You can waste all of my time so to tell me your tale.”

The Doctor looked warily at him as he took another sip from his cup. “Then how do I know I can trust you?”

Tyrion grunted to himself, probably surprised at the fact that someone could be so untrusting about him once more. Well, whoever it would be, the Time Lord was pretty sure they would have good reasons for that.

“Well, you have no choice, Doctor,” assured Tyrion. “If you want to survive in King’s Landing that’s the very thing you’re going to have to do, or else, the gods must know what heap of shit would be ahead for you if you end up in the hands of my fellow councilors, and trust me, you’ll find them much worse than me.”

For a while, the Doctor looked at the dwarf. He wasn’t sure whether he should be doing this, knowing that this was a world that was created in a book, and one he didn’t know so well. He could only guess that Tyrion Lannister was right. He would have no other choice, seeing as Clara and Daeltrix were not with him. The Time Lord cleared his throat a bit, glanced up and down at him and finally began to tell his tale.

“Well, I, being from another world and a curious being, have traveled many places with my friends, Lannister.” He took another short pause. “But I won’t go on telling you about those because there are many to speak of.”

Tyrion nodded. “That’s alright, I understand.”

He cleared his throat again. “I’ll tell you what recently happened though. So, I was in a spaceship…”

“Spaceship?” interrupted Tyrion in curiosity.

“It’s a form of transport from my world,” the Doctor answered briefly. Then, he added, “It’s complicated.”

“Ah,” the dwarf nodded. “I shan’t ask about it anymore then.”

“Hmm, yeah, I was in my spaceship talking to my friends whilst the quake happened. We didn’t know how it started but there was a storm sucking us in… and, uh, because of that we got separated.”

“Mmm-Hmm…” the poor dwarf tried his best to shroud his astonishment.

“So you see, that’s the thing, I-I don’t understand how I got here! Supposedly, I was in my spaceship with my friends, and now I am stuck here, with my mode of transport nowhere to be found!”

Tyrion stared at him attentively and nodded. It seemed like the dwarf didn’t understand half of the things the Doctor have said, but at least one thing was for sure: he tried his best to listen, something people do rarely when encountering such strange people.

“I know it’s strange, but even I don’t know how I got here, and why I am here, of all places where I’m not supposed to be. I am trying to look for my friends, but they are nowhere to be seen.”

Tyrion said nothing, but instead he gave out a slight look of sympathy. The Doctor waited, expecting some sort of reaction coming from the dwarf. Actually, he didn’t even know what to expect, this was a book he didn’t even read! He only heard briefly about some of the characters and that’s it, otherwise he had no knowledge of the aura of the character.

The small Lannister sat there, holding onto his goblet and consider the words the Doctor had spoken to him just then. The Doctor could tell that it would be hard for him to comprehend, but he could see that Tyrion was not stupid. That seemed to be something of relief to him.

After the long time of thinking, the dwarf gave out a sigh and finally answered:

“I have to admit that I didn’t understand half of the things you just said, Doctor, but I can see that you’re trying to get to your friends,” said Tyrion. “I can’t guarantee you’ll find them, but I promise that I will try my best to help you in any way I can.”

Finally, the Doctor felt comfortable enough to give a mere grin. “Thank you,” he breathed.

Tyrion merely ignored his gratitude and went on to advise him, “But seeing as you’re here, I’ll give ou a piece of advice: it’s best if you keep yourself out the way of the small council, especially my sister, and same with my nephew. Queen Cersei can be paranoid and would order someone to be killed if she felt like it in the worst of times. Also, my nephew takes pleasure in bringing people pain, so it’s best you stay out of the King’s way, and the small council is filled with liars. You want to be alive and you want some help with this, you have to do that, then. Understood?”

The Doctor didn’t have a choice once again. He would have no idea how this world would work here, and it was best to be careful this time and follow the dwarf’s advice. It was a first that he would agree to this when usually he would be the one in charge, but this is King’s Landing, and it’s part of a story filled with blood and gore. It was best not to meddle too much with these people if he wanted to stay alive, so all he could do was nod and say, “Yes, Lannister. I’ll keep myself out of harm’s way.”

The dwarf smiled. “Good, now let’s carry on with our days.”

The Doctor grinned in agreement with that, but deep inside he still felt terrible. He did not just miss Clara, but also the fourteen year old girl who dreamt of Bran Stark. For the first time in his life, he now wished that Daeltrix was right here with him, for she would know well how this world works in the books, and now he was to face a fictional world, clueless and alone whilst he was to find a way to get to his friends before it would be too late for them.

 


	6. Daeltrix

Blackness turned into light. Dale blinked her eyes open and glanced around, from side to side. She had no idea where she was and how she got here at all. If felt cold inside this room, despite finding herself covered with long strips of furr. She sat up, wondering what this place was. All she knew was that she was inside a large dorm and a large bed, but still she had no idea where she was right now.

Then, a flash came inside her mind. She now remembered that she was in the TARDIS with the Doctor and Clara before, and one by one they were all being taken in by the black hole, and now she was in this dim place, where none of her friends were. At the thought of the Doctor and Clara, Dale began to weep, missing them more than anything and hoping to see them soon enough so she could be in the comforts of the TARDIS, speaking of silly things and having great adventures in different dimensions. It had only been now that she woke, and still she began to miss them more than anything.

 

 _I hope I can see them again_.

 

Then, there was a knock on the door. Dale gasped and flinched. She blinked her eyes and wiped her tears away. The door had been open and a maid came inside. At the sight of the woman, Dale was shocked. _Why on earth was there a maid bringing her clothes, setting them at the desk, and a folded long cloth?_ Then, came in a bold old man, and at the sight of him, Dale was surprised. Those small eyes and that sulken face of his… _What the hell was Maester Luwin doing here?_

“Good afternoon, my lady,” he greeted politely. “I hope you had a good rest.”

For a brief while, Dale blinked her eyes. She gazed at the old man with a bit of fascination and answered, “I have, thank you.”

The old man smiled and presented himself, as he should. “I am Maester Luwin, my lady. What is your name?”

Dale stood up and kept blinking her eyes, still wondering where she was. Instead of her real name, her alias slipped into her lips.  “I’m Daeltrix.”

Then, the old man’s grin faded a bit and tilted his head. “That is a very curious name, my lady, isn’t it?”

 _Daeltrix… why on earth did I say my nickname instead?_ The only thing Dale could do was laugh in response and smile. “Yes, it is quite exotic…”

The old man smiled again and said, “Very well, Lady Daeltrix. I just came here to let you know that Robb Stark will be expecting to see you at the hall after you have bathed and dressed.”

 _Robb Stark?_ Oh gosh… what was happening to her?! Why on earth is she hearing the names of fictional characters? Why on earth was she feeling so cold in this place? Where was she, by the way? Nothing seemed to be clear to her right now and this trance had gone for far too long.

As those questions ran through her head, she nodded and understood. The man then bowed and left

In no time, she got ready for a nice hot bath. She felt the water warm and clean her, and never did she think that a bath would soothe her more than anything. For a while she bathed, and once she was done she got one of the maids to help her dress. First came the smallclothes and the corset. It felt very strange for her to be wearing these instead of the underwear she was used to, but then again it would probably be strange enough for these medieval people to see such modern things. Oh gosh… and she still wondered where she was. Why did she not even think about asking anyone yet?! She really must be bonkers not to do so.

Once the under garments were placed, Dale was ready to be dressed like a proper lady. The maid helped the girl with a light grey dress, which looked dull compared to her light toasted skin, and then came the strapped cover that went over the gown, tying the laces at the back and then wrapping a belt around her. Then, her hair was being styled, making it partly braided and partly loose. It was simple, yet nice enough to appreciate the woman’s work.

After her hair was done, she got out of the bedroom, and she was led to the hall by he maid. When she finished walking through corridors, doors and turned corners, she finally entered there at the hall, where Robb Stark sat, and at his side was his little brother Bran… yes, the one she kissed in her dream… how awkward it was to even remember that. And also Theon Greyjoy, from what she remembered when watching the series, the one that looked like a drunk idiot. And beside Bran was Rickon, and the three direwolves were present as well: Grey Wind, Summer and Shaggydog. One snarled at her while another one just laid there and the third tilted its head and poked out its tongue.

The girl was greeted by a smile, coming from the Lord regent of Winterfell, and Dale had no idea whether she was meant to feel comforted or intimidated. She would have to see which one she would feel right now. The only thing she could do was curtsy and greet the Lord Regent of Winterfell. Well, she could guess that was how someone would greet a person of great importance in those times

“I-I bid you a good afternoon, my lord. I hope you have had a good day…”

Robb grunted and glanced at his little brother for a brief while. Then, he turned to look at the girl again. “My brother is alive and well, and that’s what matters, so my day is still good.”

 _His brother?_ “W-why, my lord? Did something happen?”

He shook his head lightly. “It is no longer a matter to worry about.”

What else could she do other than smile? That was pretty much the only thing she could do right now: smile and wait until the young lord addressed her again.

“Maester Luwin tells me your name is Daeltrix…”

 _If only I said my real name…_ The girl nodded meekly. “It is.”

“That’s quite peculiar… I’ve never known someone with that name.”

At that, Dale blushed in embarrassment. “No, my lord. It is quite rare after all.”

Robb gave out a welcoming smile as he stared at the girl. “Come closer. Let us have a look at you.”

Daeltrix did as told and approached the men and the boys. Once she stood one step away from the three of them, a silence inhabited and Robb’s gaze eased even more so into friendliness.

“Hmm, not just an unusual name,” remarked the Stark man. “You, yourself, are pretty as well.”

Daeltrix could feel her cheeks burn red. One compliment after another, and that was something she really wasn’t used to.

“Tell me, how old are you?”

“Fif—“ as she was about to reply, she realized that they would say the age different – that much she could remember from reading the book. Then, Dale gulped and answered again, “Four and ten, sire.”

At that, Robb gave out a soft chuckle. “Really? I would have thought you my brother’s age.” He looked at Bran when he said that. “He’s ten, you know.”

 _I noticed_. Dale’s shy grin widened a bit more.

Robb leaned forward and gave out a wordless grunt. It was as he had realized something no one else did and he went on to say, “Forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Robb, from the House of Stark. My brothers and I welcome you to Winterfell.” Yeah, it was certainly one of those polite things to do when meeting a complete stranger.

 _Oh… so I am in Winterfell_. Of course, it should have been obvious to her. Right now she was seeing Robb and his two young brothers, and Theon in a dim hall and it felt completely cold here. Nothing happened yet, thus far, that would make them separate, and still they were all in harmony. Why was it not obvious to her? Was she really that stupid when she woke up? “I-I thank you, my lord.”

Robb returned that gratitude with a warm smile, as if it were saying she were welcome. Then, he turned to his brother and spoke again.

“Lady Daeltrix, this is my brother, Bran.”

Finally, after a while of avoiding his gaze, Dale turned to look at him and smiled meekly. However, the boy did not do the same. He merely blinked his eyes and seemed to feel intimidated, and reddened. _The poor boy…_ , thought Dale as she glanced at her toes and then back at him. Robb turned to look at Bran and muttered, “Go on, you can greet her. She won’t do any harm.”

Bran glanced at his brother and nodded. Then, he looked at her and greeted as he tried his best to hide his reddened cheeks, “N-nice to meet you, my lady.”

Dale turned to him completely and curtsied. “I say the same to you, my lord.”

Robb then looked onwards, towards the youngest brother. “And this is Rickon, who sits at Bran’s side.”

The girl turned to look at him and saw that his youngest brother gave out a distrusting glare at her. Dale widened her beam even more, as if trying to extract at least a small hint of friendliness out of the boy.

“Hi…” she greeted sheepishly.

The boy said nothing. He merely glared at her with distrust whilst the wolf came to him and growled. Dale gulped a bit of thin air, dreading to think what brutality would come from Shaggydog. For a while, Rickon stared, and afterwards, he got so bored of the sight of her that he shrugged his shoulders off and turned his eyes away from her. That amused the girl slightly, and of course she understood why he was like that. God, if it were her she would be even worse when meeting a stranger coming from the woods!

Then, she put her thughts aside and turned to look at Theon.

“And I’m Theon Greyjoy, my lady,” greeted Robb’s companion.

Dale politely turned to him and curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Greyjoy.”

At that, he smirked. It was as if he had received a nice compliment just then. She hated it whenever the man smiled in the ‘Game of Thrones’ series. Right now, seeing him in person, she still hated it, and yet she beamed at him politely. She then turned back to Robb Stark and said, “I thank you for your warm welcome, my lord. It is much appreciated.”

“It is my pleasure, my lady,” he replied. “Seeing as you are our guest at Winterfell, I was wondering if you would like to dine with us tonight.”

 _Dinner? With Robb Stark and his brothers?_ The prospect of that excited Dale more than anything.

“That’s very kind of you, my lord. I am willing to accept indeed.”

Robb grinned at that and stood up. “Good, then it’s settled. I’ll see to it that the food is ready within a few hours.”

Half heartedly: “I shall look forward to it.”

How exciting it was to have dinner with the Starks. Out of all the things to happen, this would have been quite impossible when she was time travelling with the Doctor, but now that she was right here and right now in Winterfell it was something to cross off her bucket list. She glanced from person to person, gladdened to see that she was going to hang out with some of her favorite characters. She glanced at Robb and Theon first, and then when her eyes landed on Bran, her smile eased off a bit. The boy seemed to be grinning meekly, and right when she stared at him she thought briefly about the dream she had involving him… She really hoped supper would not be so awkward once she starts speaking to them properly.


	7. Daenerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This interferes with Daenery's conversation with Missandei about Greyworm

“You think he was spying on you?” asked Daenerys as she kept brushing Missandei’s roughled black hair.

“No, not spying,” answered the woman meekly.

“The Dothraki think it ridiculous to take shame on the naked body,” she went on to explain. “They make love under the stars for all the khalasar to see.”

Missandei nodded and agreed shyly, “Yes, your grace.”

Daenerys then gave out a grin as she turned her eyes on Missandei again. She, of all people could understand how such things seemed bizarre to her for she had felt the same when she first met Drogo. “But you are not Dothraki.”

She shook her head lightly. “No…”

“Well, I don’t see how it matters,” Daenerys sighed and remarked. “Greyworm isn’t interested and the Unsullied don’t even care what’s under our cloaks.”

At her own words, she chuckled a bit as she went on to brush the hair of the woman a bit more. Missandei blinked her eyes and slightly turned her head, as if to look at the Khaleesi.

“He was interested…” she muttered sheepishly.

Daenerys blinked her eyes as soon as she heard that. “What?”

Sounding much more convinced: “I believe he _was_ interested.”                                      

At that thought, Daenerys became buffled. The Unsullied were known to be men who could not lust, let alone be interested in the view of a woman’s naked body. How could this be possible? This supposedly wouldn’t happen, and the woman with silver hair found it surprising that such a thing did happen. Daenerys bobbed her head a bit in disbelief, blinked her purple eyes once more and finally asked, “When the slaves are castrated as boys, do they take all of it?”

Missandei didn’t seem to understand. “All of it?”

“The pillar and the stones,” elaborated the woman.

By the look that Missandei gave, it was as if her friend felt just as curious as Daenerys herself. “I-I don’t know, your grace,” she replied honestly.

Teasingly, Daenerys questioned, “Haven’t you ever wondered?”

A silence fell betwixt both women. Daenerys saw the woman blink her eyes and her cheeks redden. It seemed as though Missandei herself was just as interested in him as Greyworm was of her. When thinking about that, Daenerys smiled at the thought.

“Y-yes, your grace, I have,” she affirmed.

Daenerys chuckled. “Well, now I know you do.” She took a short pause. “Let us speak of it no more. I can see it is bothering you a bit.”

Her cheeks reddened even more when thinking about it. “I-if you say so, your grace.”

Daenerys gave out a grunt and went on to brush it a bit more. “Has the woman spoken, Missandei? Do you know?”

“She woke up a few hours ago, your grace,” she said. “The only thing I know is that her name is Clara Oswald.”

At that, Daenerys stopped playing with the woman’s hair and looked at Missandei in interest. “Clara Oswald?”

Missandei nodded. “Yes, your grace.”

For a while, Daenerys fell in thought. She blinked her eyes and wondered if there would be anything more to know about her. She hoped to find out soon.

“Did she say anything else?”

“No, your grace,” she denied. “She didn’t.”

“Hmm…” this, she found interesting. It was so interesting to Daenerys that she felt a pang, as if longing to see this woman they found in the middle of Meereen. She was beautiful and exotic, and she was a person that she has never seen in the Narrow sea, or anywhere at all. The woman named Clara had caught the Khaleesi’s curiosity. “I think I should see her now, ask how she’s feeling right now.”

Missandei smiled and gave a curt nod. “If your Grace wishes for it.”


	8. Clara

Clara was inside a dorm, sitting by the desk and looking at the mirror. Her hair was a mess and she hated it. How on earth did she end up here anyway, and why did it all seem so medieval-like and unnatural?

Perhaps this was a very different experience from the time travelling she often did.

As she fussed over her hair, a knock on the door resonated. Clara turned to the particular direction and allowed entrance. The door had opened and in came a woman with lovely braided silver hair, pale skin and curious purple eyes. Clara seemed a bit scared from those eyes of hers, and it felt confronting to see a colour in them she’d never seen. Clara blinked the brown of hers for a brief while, straightened herself a bit and grinned a bit.

“Good day, Clara Oswald.”

 _How did she know my name?_ Clara certainly didn’t understand that.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

She felt a bit baffled at that. “Well, I’m good. H-how are you?”

The woman grinned. “I’m well too, my lady.” She took a short pause as Clara kept giving out that curious gaze of hers. “You might be wondering how I know your name.”

Once again, Clara blinked her eyes in a bit of fascination. “I am… actually.”

The woman chuckled a bit. “You spoke to my friend earlier. Missandei told me who you were.”

 _Oh yes, of course, that would have been why_. Clara laughed as well. “Oh, I should have known…”

“That’s alright,” she assured. “I understand you just woke up.”

She nodded and grinned sheepishly. “I did…”

“How did you come to be in Meereen, my lady?”

Clara blinked her eyes and thought about it as she stared at the woman with purple eyes. Of all things to even think about, and Clara had no idea how she got here. All she could remember was being inside the TARDIS, an earthquake and then being sucked into a black hole. After that everything was blackness to her, and she had seen neither the Doctor or Dale. Right now she felt a bit lost and confused, and she wished that both of them were with her in this place. How was she to even explain that she was in the Doctor’s spaceship with her two friends, got sucked into a black hole and ended up in this place? It would have sounded so crazy to her had she been in this woman’s place, so she decided to lie this time. “I-I can’t remember, actually.” She took a short pause and saw that the woman’s gaze seemed quite attentive. “I guess I just walked… and fainted of thirst… Now I don’t remember where I was supposed to go.” At that, Clara blinked her eyes and shook her head lightly. _Why on earth did I come up with that stupid excuse?_

The woman smiled. “I understand. You must have had a very long walk…”

“Yes I did…”

She grunted. “Well, seeing as you have been outside for a while, why don’t you stay here in Meereen? We wouldn’t want you to get exhausted any more than you are.”

Clara laughed in response. “That’s very kind of you, my lady. I thank you for that.”

The woman smiled and stared at her for the long while. It was as though she had remembered something just then. “Forgive me for not introducing myself, I’m Daenerys Stormborn, from the House of Targaryen.”

 _Daenerys Stormborn? From ‘Game of Thrones’?_ How on earth did she even end up in ‘Game of Thrones’? At this, Clara was surprised. She widened her brown eyes in a bit of shock, dropped her mouth open and finally curtsied.

“Oh my god! Daenerys Targar…. Oh, I’m so sorry, my lady, I didn’t know—”

“That’s alright,” Daenerys assured again. “I didn’t expect you to.”

Clara straightened herself up and stared at Daenerys Targaryen. The woman who stood before her seemed quite fascinated by the sight of her, and Clara could not help but feel awkward at that. Daenerys tilted her head, approached her slowly and muttered, “You have some very interesting garments, Clara…”

Clara blinked her eyes again, but this time she was slightly amused by the compliment – if that was even a compliment. “Oh, well thank you…”

“Hmmm…” Daenerys gazed at her in a bit of thought as she walked around her and glanced up and down. This really was strange for Clara, and she didn’t feel like moving at all. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. What on earth was that woman doing right now?

“Very beautiful…” she heard the woman mutter. Clara exhaled a bit, blinking her eyes again and again whilst she wondered what Daenerys would be thinking right now. She could feel those purple eyes all over her, and something about that made her shudder. It was as if it were all so unnatural to her.

“Missandei,” she called, finally disrupting the woman’s thoughts. “Help Clara find a new set of clothes so she can make herself at home. I want her to have the finest of gowns with her.”

The woman with the gtoasted skin bowed. “As you wish, your grace.” Then, she turned to Clara. “If you can follow me, please, my lady.”

“Of course,” Clara responded.

Right in that instant, she approached Missandei and followed her out of the room, where she could feel the eyes of the Targaryen on her. And at that thought, Clara was dreading to think what was inside that woman’s mind.


	9. Robb

It was now supper time, and Robb Stark felt quite excited to get to know the Lady Daeltrix better. Just a few minutes ago she arrived. The doors had been open and she stood before them all again, and this time a long table stood between them – Bran and Rickon at his right and Theon at his left. Robb saw the girl gulp thin air, glance at side and side. The only thing he could do was smile as the girl greeted them with a curtsy.

“Good evening, my lord.” She took a short pause. “I thank you for inviting me to supper.”

Robb grinned even more so. “You’re welcome, my lady. Please, come and join us.”

Sheepishly, the girl asked, “B-but where shall I sit, my lord?”

Robb looked at Theon’s side, and the back at her. “Right next to my friend, Theon Greyjoy. Only if you don’t mind.”

At first, the girl hesitated. Then, he heard her laugh and saw her head shake a bit. “Of course not, my lord. I accept your invitation.”

At that Robb chuckled. Lady Daeltrix walked towards them all and sat right beside Theon Greyjoy. There, at the table, laid plenty of platters of food, and tonight they were dining mostly on meat. No one said a word ever since everyone got at the table.

 

*      *       *

 

For a while they all stayed quiet, enjoying their food and drinks. No one dared say a word, and each and every one of them glanced at each other, wondering who would be the one to break the daunting silence. Robb glanced from side to side, and it was then when he decided to speak in the midst of supper.

“So Daeltrix,” he directed at the girl. “Where are you from?”

The girl seemed a bit reluctant to answer that. “I’m from far off, sire. I live further south.”

Robb nodded at that. “And what brought you to Winterfell, good lady?”

As soon as he asked that, Bran, Rickon and Theon turned to look at the girl. Robb could see that they were all just as curious as he was, and the girl seemed to feel so embarrassed about that. Long had she been silent when she seemed to consider the question carefully, and Robb Stark stared at her with all his patience. Daeltrix took a deep breath, glancing from one person to the other, as she did earlier at the hall, and once she decided she was ready to tell her tale, she began to speak again.

“Uh-umm… Just a change of environment, my lord, “ she replied hesitantly. “I suddenly lost my interest in the south, so I decided to travel north, so I can see its wonders.”

Robb giggled at that. “You sound as though you’re someone who doesn’t often travel.”

She nodded. “Oh yes. I never once travelled in my life…” she took a short pause. It was as if she were thinking for the brief while. “…not until my mother and father died.”

At that, Robb was saddened to hear, and Rickon, Bran and Theon paid more attention to her this time.

“A sickness took them, and I have been lonely since. “She then took a deep breath. “And I suppose… I thought there would be no point staying at home, where I would only be filled with grief and pain, my lord. That’s why I decided to go on a journey and see what’s north. The south was nothing without them.”

It took a while for Robb to let her words sink in. To go through such grief and then decide to leave home for the good of the heart… that would have been too much for him had he been in this situation. The Lord Regent of Winterfell inhaled a bit of cold air and said, “I am sorry for your loss, my lady. It must have been so painful to go through this.”

“Hmm… it was,” she agreed and took a sip of water from her cup. “But still, I would rather not dwell on these sad events. In life, one must learn how to move on, accept the fact that things like this happen. That’s all I can do, really.”

Robb smiled at that, obviously smitten by the sight of the girl. She may be a few years younger than him, but her loveliness could not escape notice from his eyes, and still there would be a few times when he almost thought she was Bran’s age. He smiled and stared at the shy maid, eating a bit of the roasted meat and drinking a bit of her water. He chuckled bit, cut up his food and ate one piece of it. Once he was done, he agreed with what the girl said.

“I agree with every word you say, Lady Daeltrix. That would be the best solution for every grief and heartbreak.” He then took his cup again and drank from it whilst staring at the girl. “I shall remember that.”

Daeltrix beamed even more, ate part of her dinner and glanced from person to person once more. As she was about to devour the meat again, she had forgotten about the doubting young son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark.

“I don’t trust you!” exclaimed Rickon all of the sudden.

In embarrassment, Bran turned to his brother and smacked him on the arm. “Rickon!” he muttered.

Ignoring his older brother: “How do we know you won’t take away any of us?”

She chuckled a bit. “What? Now why would I take away any of your brothers?”

“Because mother and father had left, as well as my sisters. Maybe you want to kidnap them and… have them for yourself.”

Robb laughed as well. “Hush now, Rickon. She will do no harm to us. Lady Daeltrix is a guest and you may do well to have some manners and be kind to her.”

Who knew what Rickon was thinking at that moment, but at last they all knew that was something that would make him shut up and eat his food like a normal little boy – instead of stabbing the meat and glaring in suspicion. Of course, he had a right to be so, but still the Lady Daeltrix showed nothing but courtesy and a lovely smile. There was no way she would seem the type to wage a war in Winterfell, let alone be a cause for him to part from his home. He highly doubted that. As he gave out an amused grunt, he turned to look at Bran, who had been so silent during supper. Robb smiled at his brother and said:

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Bran. I think it’s time for you to tell us a story.”

The boy of ten merely played with his fork and food. He struggled to eye any of them. Robb suspected it would be because of the girl. “I don’t have anything to tell,” he muttered.

Theon laughed out loud. “Why? Smitten by the girl, are we?”

Bran gave out an annoyed glare at Theon. Robb knew this was hurting his brother, and it was time for him to intervene before Theon said anymore japes. He gave out a sigh and remarked:

“Now, Theon, you mustn’t jump into conclusions. Maybe he’s still in shock of the events that happened today.”

“Or perhaps not,” he said. “You do know we found her in the middle of the forest after that happened.”

The girl glanced at the in question. “Events? What events, sire?”

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, my lady. We’ve sorted this out, and everything is well.”

Theon scoffed at that. Robb glared at his friend for him to shut up and Theon did so, burying his face into dinner.

Daeltrix grinned a bit sheepishly, gave out a nod and took her cup once more. “Well, I’m glad of that.”

Then, the girl drank once more, and Robb stared at her whilst she did that. It was quite fascinating to see that such a girl of small stature could so gracefully take a goblet and sip from it with rosy plump lips. Yes, he thought her beautiful when she drank water, which was slightly strange, coming from his thoughts. He blinked his blue eyes and was about to carry on eating, but that was until he realized that Bran was no longer enjoying his meal and dropped his cutlery at the side.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” said Bran. “I want to go to bed.”

Theon and Rickon blinked their eyes as Robb managed a small grin and pointed out, “But you’ve hardly eaten.”

“It’s like I said,” spoke the boy as he looked at his oldest brother meekly. “I’m not hungry anymore.” Then, he turned to the giant and called him.

In no time, Hodor came forth and Bran told him to bring him to his bedroom now, and the giant obeyed. The ten year old briefly greeted them goodnight, and after a few minutes, they were gone. Once again, they were silent, staring at each other and wondering what would be that made the young boy retire himself to bed so early. Robb saw his friend glance from side to side, his face flickering with a slight sparkle of amusement as he blinked his eyes and said:

“I wonder what got him to be this way.”

Rickon shrugged whilst Daeltrix ate and gave out a confused gaze and Robb looked at his friend in a bit of disapproval. _It must have been that remark you made about him earlier_.


	10. Bran

_Smitten?! By the girl?! What on earth is Theon thinking?_

Bran gave out a groan of annoyance as Hodor was bringing him back to his bedroom. The giant climbed stairs and Bran fell in thought. He often wondered why Theon loved to tease him, and he hated that. He hated it so much. He hated it when he did that to him and sometimes he would wish for him to die in his bed. But then again, it was good of him to save his life from the strangers. If it weren’t for Robb and Theon arriving in time to stop them from killing him he would have been dead. For that he was grateful of them, but still, he didn’t appreciate the japes Theon gave when they found Daeltrix.

 

He was far too young to be thinking of such dreading things…

 

Bran thought all this as Hodor stepped on more stairs, passed through corridors and turned corners. He still found it hard to believe that someone, and that being Theon, would think that he would already be won over by a lady’s beauty. That was completely preposterous... besides, he was merely ten years old.

He gave out a sigh. “Theon can be impossible sometimes, Hodor.”

“Hodor,” Hodor answered in what seemed to be agreement.

“Oh, you agree?” Bran asked.

“Hodor,” he said in confirmation.

The boy gave out a chuckle and smiled at the man. “Well, that’s comforting.”

“Hodor,” he said with a smile.

Bran gave out a grunt. “Well, I am not smitten by her,” he said it more to convince himself.  But Bran knew it to be a lie. The first time he saw her he kept avoiding her gaze, and he felt himself blush. That was the complete opposite of what he was saying to himself.

“Hodor,” he agreed again.

Sometimes Bran felt really annoyed at the fact that Hodor could only say his own name. There were so many times when he wished he could have a proper conversation with him, and right now it was one of those times. The only thing he could do was accept that and go on speaking.

“If only you could speak, Hodor… Then it would be easier to know what you think about all this.”

“Hodor,” he said with a slight tone of sadness in his voice.

The boy grunted again, turning his glance towards the corridors, and suddenly the Lady Daeltrix came in his mind. He had to admit, the girl did seem lovely, and he wished he could have been nicer to her, but seeing as Theon was there teasing him again, it was hard to. Briefly, he thought of her and he chuckled a bit.

“She is pretty. Isn’t she? Although, I do hope she’s nice enough to us all.”

The simple-minded man grinned at that. “Hodor.”

 

*        *       *

 

They finally arrived in the room, where he got dressed with his sleeping garments and readied himself for bed. Finally, he was tucked in carefully. The thick furs were placed on him and Bran was happy to feel the comfort of his pillow right behind his head. He breathed in and out, in and out, and in and out once more. The slumber kicked in and his brown eyes slowly blinked. He gave a small grin at Hodor and bid him goodnight.

“Thank you, Hodor. Goodnight.”

“Hodor,” the giant replied in greeting and left the room.

The door had been closed and Bran blinked his eyes once more. Again and again and again, and he did so until sleep came to him and had dreams of things he could not comprehend himself.


	11. Daeltrix

One by one they all left. First it had been Bran, who wanted to go to bed and was escorted by the simple-minded giant named Hodor. Then, it was Rickon, who got so bored by eating that he decided to go out and play a bit more with Shaggydog, which seemed a bit strange for her. Then, Theon left because he decided he needed some fresh air… or perhaps a whore, from what she knew about the book. That thought disturbed her a lot.

Now, only Robb and Dale were left in the dining room. The man still enjoyed his meal, whilst the girl had only one more bite to go and then she would be done.

As Dale gazed at Robb Stark, she thought about the false story she had told them all and how bad she felt about it. She felt so guilty about having to lie to the Starks, who had been so kind to her thus far – and not to mention that the Starks were actually her favorite family in the book. She didn’t like lying to them. She didn’t like telling them that she came from the south, instead of telling them that she came from another world, that she was in a spaceship that clashed in with a quake and had been blown off by a wind coming from a black hole.

 

God, if she were them, she would have been baffled by it.

 

But still… she should have told them the truth.

 

But then again, if she did tell them, how would they be able to handle it? Not very well, she guessed. Either they would have accepted her, or they would have been scared of her, and the latter seemed more likely than the former. That was why she didn’t tell them the truth.

As she thought about this, she could see Robb glancing at her back and forth, smiling at her. The only thing she could do was beam back and make sure that she did not seem too sheepish to him. Hopefully, she did not look it, but she knew deep inside she was.

Robb carried on eating, whilst Dale was finally done with her meal and stared blankly at the stained plate. It was as if she were thinking of the things that had happened to her. The TARDIS approaching a black hole… Her, appearing in Winterfell… She understood none of it. If only she could get answers to this, then it wouldn’t be so daunting to her in mind.

Then, her thoughts turned to the Doctor and Clara.

Yes, she may have enjoyed dinner with the Stark’s, but she still missed them both – the jokes, the adventures, the monsters they met… she missed everything about them. It had only been a few hours since the events in the TARDIS happened and she already missed them badly. Her eyes became as glimmering as glass when thinking about the Doctor and Clara. She hoped for them to find her soon despite the nice time she had had today, and she hoped for them to be okay. As she gazed at her plate continuously, her thoughts had finally been disrupted by the voice of Robb Stark.

“Did you enjoy your supper, my lady?”

At that, Dale seemed to be caught off guard. She widened her eyes a bit, managed a grin and laughed gawkily.

“Yes, I did. Thank you.”

He grinned even more. “Well, I’m glad you did, my lady.” He took a short pause as he ate the last piece of meat. Once he swallowed it, he spoke again. “It’s just a shame that my brothers didn’t get to say much tonight.”

At that, Dale chuckled. “I’m sure there will be plenty of time, my lord. After all, the only thing I can do is be patient.”

He nodded. “That is quite true, my lady. I thank you for your words.”

She gave a curt nod as they stared at each other for a brief while. Actually, they seemed to have done that a lot, and it really was becoming more than an awkward habit. Because of that, Dale thought it should be time for her to leave.

“Well, my lord, I think it’s time I retire to bed.” She then stood up. “I thank you for inviting me to supper. I bid you goodnight.”

At that, he seemed a bit surprised, and before she could leave, he halted her for a longer while. “Oh wait, Lady Daeltrix! Before you go,” said Robb. “There’s something I would like to speak to you about.”

At that, Dale nodded and looked at him attentively. She felt very curious about what it was he wanted to inquire her about.

Robb gave out a sigh and gave out a tired grin. “You may be wondering how you got here, my lady.”

She nodded. “Actually, I am. In fact, I have no idea how I got here.”

He laughed at that. “You must have walked for a very long time, my lady. I’ll say that.”

“Yes, I must have,” she forced herself to agree. “But then after that, I don’t remember anything.”

She blinked her eyes as she thought about it again. She was in the TARDIS with the Doctor and Clara, and then a black hole appeared out of nowhere and separated them one by one. Then, she appeared in Winterfell, where she was taken in by the Stark’s. It still made no sense to her at all.

 

_How on earth did this happen?_

 

She thought deeply and hardly.

 

It seemed as though Robb had been observing her the whole time, and that made her feel a bit sheepish and scared. To hide that, she grinned, hoping that it would be enough to seem friendly. But still, that whole thing bothered her.

 

_Why am I here?_

 

Robb Stark gave out a grunt. He glanced up and down at her once more and gave out a soft chuckle. He gave out a sigh and said:

“Come, let me show you something.”

 

*       *       *

 

They have left the dining room, walked through corridors, climbed stairs and turned corners, and then reached the dorm of Robb Stark. The Lord Regent led her in and Dale waited there whilst Robb walked towards a parcel that had been set aside. He took it carefully, approached the girl and stood right in front of her. Dale glanced at him with curiosity, wondering why he was showing her a parcel.

“Is this yours, my lady?”

 _Now why on earth would I own an old parcel?_ She shook her head lightly and pouted her lip a bit. “How would I know? I don’t even have the slightest idea as to what’s in there, my lord.”

For a brief while, he stared at her, still friendly at her. But this time his gaze had a hint of solemnity in it. He gave out a thinking grunt and went on to speak again. This time, though, it was about how she got here.

“Well, I’ll tell you what you want to hear. “ He took a short pause. “My brother Bran used to walk once, like young boys could. He loved to climb the walls of Winterfell and dreamt of becoming a knight. He was going to go with father and my two sisters, Arya and Sansa, to King’s Landing, but one day he fell. We were so surprised because we have watched him crawl his way up to the towers since he was small, and never once did he ever fall. We are not sure of the cause yet, but we have our suspicions. That, I won’t talk about.” This, Dale understood for clear reasons. (Of course, she had read the book and watched the series). “What broke my heart, though, was Bran’s wish of being dead instead, for he can no longer be like normal boys and he can no longer dream of being a knight with the state of his legs.”

She didn’t see how this had anything to do with her, but despite the fact that she knew the story, it made her sad. “I’m so sorry to hear that. It must have been so distressing for you all.”

He grinned a bit. “It was. But then things changed. A man named Tyrion Lannister visited Winterfell once more and had a design for a new saddle made. It was kind of him to do that for Bran.”

“It must have been,” agreed Dale Of course Tyrion would do that, he pitied the boy, and so would she. “And did Bran try his new saddle?”

“He did today at the godswood. He enjoyed his horse-riding very much.”

Dale beamed even more. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

He nodded and let his voice rest for a brief while. Then, he continued telling his tale. “On our way back to our home, we found you at the woods.”

 _What?_ “Really?”

At that, Robb raised one eyebrow. “Yes,” he said. “Don’t you remember reaching the forest?”

She had to lie. Of course she didn’t arrive at a forest, in fact, the last time she was awake she was in the TARDIS struggling against a wind.

Actually, it was a half-truth: she didn’t ‘remember’ how she reached the forest, but still she never walked through the godswood before. “I-I must have been only half-conscious when I reached it, my lord. I hardly remember anything.”

He nodded again. He glanced down at the parcel and questioned: “Did you bring any books or any pieces of parchment with you when you traveled?”

She had a book with her when she was at the TARDIS, but she highly doubted that a book would have reached Winterfell via black hole. “No, my lord. I don’t remember bringing anything with me, but perhaps I might have.”

Dale felt tense. Robb Stark was studying her gaze, her rigid gestures, her posture… it was as if he was suspecting something of her, and that was the last thing the girl wanted. She hoped he saw nothing that would make him doubtful at all. For a while he glanced at her, and then finally he gave out another grunt, which was a relief to Dale. It meant that his focus on her would be turned away once more.

The man looked down at the parcel, opened up the wrappings carefully and revealed a few pieces of parchment.

“We found this surrounding you at the godswood.”

Dale blinked at that. _Why on earth would this be surrounding me?_

“I was hoping you might recognize this.”

Dale nodded, took one piece of parchment and had a good look at it. She began reading it to herself, and a spark of familiarity came to her.

 _I could have sworn I read this before_.

Once she was finished with one part, she turned it around to read the words of the other side. Then, she took other pages and read them on. On and on she went, thinking it strange that she were reading about Bran Stark riding in the godswood with his horse. And then, once she reached another page a pang of shock came to her as soon as she read those words.

 

_All alone in the deep dark woods?_

 

Those were the words Osha said to Bran, and that brought more shock to her. She the snatched the other pages, reading it line by line. Se felt as though she was seeing a flash of the past and that terrified her, and clearly she could hear the voices of the people that were featured in this excerpt. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened and she had finally read the part when Robb and Theon had saved Bran… but what she found after made her feel even more scared.

 

Things in those pages changed.

 

_Deep in the goodswood they walked again, making their way back to Winterfell straight after Bran had been saved. Often, the Wildling woman would glance from side to side, as Bran would. The boy appreciated the work of nature. But what they have found down there was something strange and unnatural to them._

_“Robb,” muttered Theon. “Look!”_

_Robb Stark turned his attention to Theon as soon as his name had been called. He approached his friend and turned to the direction Theon’s finger was pointing at. They saw a piece of parchment._

_“It’s a piece of parchment,” Bran heard Robb mutter._

_The oldest brother took it to have a closer look. Strange words were scribbled on it and Theon and Robb looked at each other._

_“What on earth is it doing here?”_

_“I have no idea,” Theon  answered. “But there’s more over there.”_

_Robb stood up, looked at the path ahead and saw more pages laying on the ground. It was then when they decided to follow the path the parchment made. One by one, they picked them up, not comprehending where it was leading them at all. Theon went ahead whilst Robb walked and glanced at each page. Bran stared at his brother in slight curiosity, as did Osha._

_“What is that, Robb?” Bran asked._

_“I don’t know,” he answered. “Let’s hope we can find out when we get home.”_

_At that Bran nodded._

_As they followed the way the parchment was leading them, they all felt closer to home and a cry coming from Theon Greyjoy’s mouth resonated across the woods._

_“Oh look!” he exclaimed. “A girl!”_

 

And in that moment, it was as if she saw herself unconscious.

 

At that, Dale flinched and gasped, and she knew she no longer had to read any more of it. She felt as if she had just seen what happened, and that horrified her. She felt her eyes swell with tears of fear, and she tried her best to hide them. She shook her head in disbelief and Dale muttered to herself:

“It can’t be… that’s impossible.”

“Is everything alright, my lady?” Robb asked in a bit of concerned.

Dale looked at him, nodded and forced a smile. “Everything is fine. A-after all, I just remembered that I did bring a few pieces of parchment with me for reading.”

“Ah!” he seemed relieved. “So a bit of your memory came back?”

She nodded again. “Yes, my lord. I thank you for keeping it safe. Is it alright if I bring it with me to the dorm?”

He smiled. “Of course.”

Robb then handed it all to Dale, and the girl thanked the man and greeted him goodnight. She went out from Robb’s room as fast as she could, and she made her way back to the bedroom she had woken from when he arrived here. She sat herself down and looked at each page, read it all carefully and found her breath quivering from the tip of her lips. Something must have happened when she was in the TARDIS with the Doctor and Clara. Something must have triggered that black hole and something was very wrong here in the book of ‘Game of Thrones’. It was as though events were changing, and from what she could gather now, Dale knew this was something bad… _terribly bad_.

She hoped the Doctor would find her soon before something would happen to her… before it became too late for her to come back home to the TARDIS.

 


	12. The Doctor

He had been handed over a few bright colored doublets and a few pair of breeches he did not need. Needless to say, he could guess it would all be hideous. The only thing the Doctor seemed to do was cringe at the sight of them.

“Here you go, sire,” said one of the maids. “I hope these will do.”

For a while he stared at them. Then, he reluctantly took the garments and sheepishly grinned. That was the least he could do to be allowed a long stay: smile and politely accept if he were to survive long enough to find both Clara and Daeltrix.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The maid curtsied and left the dorm. Once she was gone, the Doctor turned to glare at the clothes that the maid gave to him. These had been sent over by Tyrion Lannister as a way of telling him to disguise himself before anyone found out he was not from this world. For that, the Doctor was grateful, but still, he hated the sight of these medieval clothes.

He went over his bed and unfolded them to have a closer look. The first one he glared at was purple… hideous disgusting purple. It had been patterned with some vines, and that was something the Doctor did not like: pretty and boring vines of vibrant red and green thin weeds with leaves. At that, the Time Lord groaned and looked at the second one. This one was gold and was filled with some dreadful embroidery. He actually had no idea what they were meant to be, either spears or hearts, and he hated the idea of either those two. He then tossed that aside and saw the third one. It was black and navy, and long, like a magician’s robe. The sleeves seemed to look tight and the Doctor found that thought quite uncomfortable. He then threw that one with the others. The fouth seemed to look like some tunic that came from China, if you saw the layering collar and the soft silk it was made of… and then he saw the ridiculously long loose sleeves that were before him.

 _What kind of rubbish is this?!_ , thought the Doctor to himself. He groaned to himself again, cursed under his breath and looked at the last one of them, and this time it was one he may be able to tolerate. This doublet was dark red and studded with tiny holes that formed patterns that made him see common sense. They formed into small circles and the sleeves were long and seemed alright. It even had a belt with it, and that made the Doctor relieved. How was he to wear these loose looking things without one?

Well, at least one thing consoled him: he didn’t have to change shoes.

Once he was done looking at all his garments, he put them at the desk and got himself ready for sleeping. He hoped that the morning would be nice and bright, and hopefully he would be able to find a few clues as to where the TARDIS would be.

 

*       *       *

 

The next day the Doctor woke. He could feel the sun rays sting his skin and his big eyes blinked wide open. In the days before he got lost, he barely slept at all and he had just realized that he was not in his TARDIS anymore, but King’s Landing, and that was not something he got used to yet. _How disappointing it is to remember that_.

The Doctor sniffed and he cringed once he could smell the awful odour waking him. The first thing he could smell was the stench of piss. Why on earth did it have to smell like that?!

He got off the bed and got himself dressed. Out of all the ghastly clothes he was given he chose the red one. He first placed his new pair of breeches, then he placed his doublet and around his waist a belt. The last thing he put on was a vest he found aside, with more clothes that seemed to have been delivered overnight to his bedroom. _Were they all from the dwarf?_ , he wondered to himself. The only he could do, though, was shrug and accept the fact that those extra garments were there for him, and once the vest was placed, he made his way out and walked through corridors, doors, stairs and turned corners.

This morning, he had been invited for breakfast at the Hand of the King’s chambers, and the Doctor hoped that the food they usually eat would me more tolerable than the clothes he was given. He finally reached it, entered inside and saw Tyrion with two men: one was the man he met with at the Throne Room, named Bronn, and the other was a boy who poured wine at the dwarf’s cup. Tyrion Lannister turned to the Doctor’s direction, smiled and greeted him.

“Good morning, Doctor.” As the Doctor was approaching the table, Tyrion stared up at him and asked: “How do the winds fare with you?”

“Ugh, like piss,” the Doctor answered as he sat down. “That was the first thing I smelt when I woke up. How can you all stand it?”

At that, Bronn laughed. “You’ll soon get used to it, Doctor. It is pretty normal around here.”

“And how did you find your sleep?” asked the Hand of the King.

“Oh, I slept like a baby eventually,” the Time Lord said. “I just hope I can ignore the smell… it’s terrible.”

At that, Bronn and Tyrion looked at each other, chuckled and carried on with breakfast, which was made up of bread, oats, fruits, jams, honeys, milk and many other things. It really wasn’t the Time Lord’s favorite food but one thing was for sure: they ate normal food like humans did on Planet Earth. The Doctor gave out a slight smile as he heard Tyrion call out to the boy.

“Pod, please give the Doctor a drink of wine.”

Before he could do so, the Doctor gestured with his hand and said, “That’s alright. I don’t drink wine in the morning. Water, perhaps?”

The boy bowed, got another jug, which was filled with water and poured it at the Doctor’s cup. Tyrion gave out another chuckle and said, “Not a big fan of wine, are you?”

“Just not in the morning,” the Doctor answered. “And I would only drink it occasionally, which is why I only took one slow sip yesterday.”

“Ah, of course, I understand. You wouldn’t want to be like me and my sister,” he assured in slight amusement.

Bronn laughed at that. “I’ll drink to that.”

The Doctor blinked his eyes when he heard that. He seriously had no idea what on earth he was talking about, so the only thing he could do was nod and pretend to understand – when he actually didn’t. He merely grinned and got a piece of bread, which he made into crumbles, and some fruit that laid in a basket. As he began to eat his food and drink his water, Tyrion tilted his head a bit and asked:

“So, Doctor, what will you do today?”

 _Look for my TARDIS_. “Ah, you know, look for the answers of my questions… perhaps see a bit of King’s Landing.”

“That is a very good idea, Doctor!” agreed Tyrion with a slight tone of dry excitement. “It would be good for you.”

“And besides, you may find what you’re looking for,” said Bronn. “After all, Lannister did say you don’t remember how you arrived.”

He gazed for a while, then nodded sheepishly. “Yes… that is entirely true. And I wish to see whether there’s anything unusual going on here.”

In the eyes of the characters, the Doctor could see that they highly doubted anything would be unusual. Regardless of that, Bronn nodded whilst Tyrion thought it a good idea. “I think it would be good, Doctor, just one thing: make sure you avoid my sister and the small council. My sister is the very tall bitch with the golden long hair, and the small council is made up of an old man with a long beard named Maester Pycelle, a bald eunuch named Varys and a man with the most distrustful look. You’ll know him when you see him, his name is Petyr Baelish. Other than that, everyone’s safe, but if you do happen to bump into them by any chance, tell them a fake name,” he explained briefly. “Oh, and avoid my nephew. He has golden hair like my sister and has a child’s face. His name is Joffrey. Don’t forget that.”

The Doctor chuckled a bit, raised his cup a bit and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.” And then, he drank to that.

 

*       *       *

 

Once breakfast was over, the Doctor got out of the chambers and made his way through the corridors. He glanced from side to side, making sure that the people Tyrion described would not be at his sight. Thus far, he saw no one that matched the description of the strangers the dwarf talked about, and that was a relief to him. He climbed down more stairs and passed through doors and more corridors. He was making his way out to the city and  finally he found himself walking through the streets. It looked slightly vulgar and hostile, and he found it too warm for his own liking. Now he really wished he didn’t wear too many garments for this dreaded weather.

The buildings were of the same dull color and the Doctor didn’t like the gawking coming from children and adults alike. He would sometimes ask questions about his TARDIS and whether anyone has seen it. Some denied this, others had no idea what he was talking about whilst most shunned him and ran away. It seemed clear enough to the Doctor that these people were not fond of strangers… or perhaps it was something else. The Doctor could not begin to guess.

For what seemed to be hours he wandered around the city and lost hope of finding his TARDIS, let alone an answer as to how he got here… or so he thought.

Suddenly, a piece of paper blew towards him and hit his face. At that, the Doctor exclaimed a bit and snatched it with his thin hands in annoyance. As soon as he had a clear look at it, he blinked his eyes in a bit of shock and saw that words were printed on it. He read them briefly to himself and found it stange. This wasn’t just any sort of piece of parchment.

 

It was as if it came from a book.

 

The Doctor grunted to himself in thought, turning his glance to another side and saw more pieces of paper flying downwards and laying there on the ground. He went towards them and collected them one by one. He took one good glance and each and every page, wondering where it all came from. The Doctor could see that they all fitted well together, but he still couldn’t see how.

As he kept his eyes on the words, he made his way back to the Red Keep and in no time did he get there. He was back to walking through the corridors, doors and stairs. He held onto the papers as tightly as he could, making his way to his dorm. He found it quite curious how he found some pages from a book flying downwards towards the sea, and that struck to the Doctor as odd. This was all something he could not understand.

 _Pages of books just don’t pop out f the blue and begin to fly everywhere_ , the Time Lord thought. As he finished looking at the parchment, the Doctor looked at the path ahead, realizing that he stopped pacing towards his room. He thought about everything that happened and lacked the understanding how all of that even fitted in. The TARDIS clashed with a black hole, sucked each and every one of them and separated them. Then, he appeared In King’s Landing, and today he found a few pages coming from a book. Something was not right here.

 

But something felt even more wrong now.

 

He felt eyes watching him nearby. The Doctor turned slowly, turning his gaze towards the person eyeing him and saw her: a girl with auburn hair, pale ghostly skin and sulken blue eyes. Eyes of slight curiosity, eyes that have seen too much and eyes that were filled with distress. Most of all, these were eyes that had a dying innocence.

The Time Lord blinked his eyes and looked back at her. The Doctor could see that the girl was scared, and he tried his best to seem as friendly as possible. He tilted his head a bit, took slow steps and greeted her.

“Hello.”

The girl said nothing. She looked very teary and it was as if something, or someone was terrifying her. Perhaps it might have been the sight of the Time Lord. The Doctor gave out a forced smile and tilted his head sideways again.

“It’s alright, I’m a friend. I won’t hurt you.”

He tried coming closer to her, but it was as if the girl did not want him any nearer. The Doctor tried to make her feel calm, but nothing seemed to work. The girl blinked her sad eyes, eyed him for the while and questioned:

“Who are you?”

“Like I said,” he answered, “I’m a friend.”

She shook her head. “No, you’re not. I’ve never seen you around here.”

The Doctor looked a bit sheepish when she pointed that out. He glanced at his side, and then back at her. He merely smiled and said, “That’s because I’m new to the capital.”

The girl closed her nicely plump pink lips, blinked her blue eyes once more and completely turned herself as to face him. “Oh… are you a lord of some kind?”

He nodded. “Yes I am.”

She showed no signs of friendliness, nor any genuine interest in him. The Doctor could only see her insecurity around him. “And what is your name, my lord?”

He took one quick breath before he even spoke to her. “My name is…”

“What are you doing?’ asked a woman’s stern voice.

The Doctor and the girl turned their gazes elsewhere and saw a tall woman with golden hair and green eyes. It was as Tyrion described and the Doctor suddenly realized who he just saw: the Queen of King’s Landing.

The Doctor blinked his big eyes and stared at her in a bit of shock. She was half smiling and half frowning,. The Doctor had no idea how that could work, but that was certainly what he saw on the Queen’s face, and the Queen was the last person he wanted to see, and that was after hearing Tyrion Lannister’s heed. The woman with golden hair was wearing a gown that was just as red as blood, and the Time Lord shuddered slightly at that thought. The woman then stood before the Doctor and said:

“Why do you speak to the girl?”

The Doctor looked baffled. _Why on earth are you questioning this?_ He merely blinked his eyes. “Well, uh, I just wanted to say ‘hello’.” He then grinned uncomfortably.

The woman studied the Time Lord’s face. It was as if she found him suspicious for an unknown reason. The Doctor really didn’t like that.

The Queen gave out a grunt, turned to the red-haired girl and said, “Do leave now, little dove. I will deal with this moungrel for you.”

The girl curtsied and obeyed the Queen. In no time did she leave the spot and the Doctor watched her sprint away from both of them. Then, he turned to the Queen, who stood tall and proudly, her chin sticking up in superiority as she spoke once more.

“You should not be scaring the girl. She is vulnerable and still a maid.”

“I was trying to be nice!” protested the Doctor. How the hell was he scaring the girl in any way?

“Ser, she is to be the Future Queen of Westeros and is the betrothed to my son, Joffrey. You are not to frighten her like that again in such a manner, understood?”

What else could he do? He had no power here, no more than he ever did in the other situations he was in, but this time he was powerless. He had nothing to defend himself with, nothing but words, and his wits had left him right when he found himself here. He knew nothing that he would do could help him. This was a fictional book and right now he was dealing with a fictional character. He had never had to deal with this, and he never thought he would have to, so what was he to do? Nod, glance down at his feet for a brief while and say, “I understand, my lady. I’ll be on my way, then.”

As he was about to leave, the Queen turned to look at him once more and halted him.

“Wait!”

The Doctor turned around as soon as he heard her.

“I didn’t catch your name. Who are you exactly?”

The Doctor knew he had to think fast. “I am Lord John of Smith, my lady… lady… uh…”

“ _Queen_ Cersei,” she replied.

“Ah,” the Doctor nodded again sheepishly. _Of course, Tyrion told me she was the Queen. How could I forget?_

“And how can you be Lord of Smith? There is no such place in our maps.”

“Well, there is now,” the Doctor said in slight amusement. However, Queen Cersei did not find it funny. As soon as the Doctor realized that, he cleared his throat, looked at the ground and then back at her. For a while he was silent, and then the woman broke it without a second thought.

“And where exactly are you going now, Lord John of Smith?”

“To my room.” He gestured both his hands holding on to the parchment. “I’m about to finish some reading there.”

“Hmmm… You best be on your way, then.”

The Doctor grinned. “Yes, I should.” Then, he took a deep breath. “Have a nice day, my lady.”

He bowed and quickly left as soon as he could. He did not want to see her gawping at him, and something about her intimidated him. The Doctor did not know much of her, but one thing was for certain: she was a very hostile Queen and it was best to stay out of her way in any case. The Doctor hoped he would not see her too frequently, but this was King’s Landing, and this was a fictional book, his wish was unlikely to happen either way.


	13. Sansa

Sansa returned to her room as quicky as possinle. She felt her breath shorten every time she thought of the stranger she had just met, and she was certainly not pleased to see the Queen again. She shut the door and found her handmaiden standing there. The girl sighed in relief and she never thought she would be so glad to see her there.

“Shae!” she breathed. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here.”

She tilted her head. “Of course I am here, I was waiting for you.” She then took a pause as she realized that Sansa seemed tense. “Is everything alright, my lady?”

She nodded ad lied. “I’m fine.” She then took a pause and looked at her vanity desk. That was where she headed. She sat herself down and stared at herself in the mirror. She took a few deep breaths and thought about what just happened then. After she wept to herself quietly, a man she never saw tried to greet her only to be stopped by the Queen. This really did not make sense, and Sansa did not want to think of it any longer. She turned to look at Shae and asked:

“Could you please brush my hair?”

Shae nodded. “Of course, my lady.” She then grabbed the girl’s brush and began to do so.

Sansa merely sat there, blinking her blue eyes and stayed silent. She tried her best not to think about it all, but it was hard not to. Days ago, Prince Joffrey was to have her beaten in public only to be stopped by the dwarf. And way before that, her direwolf Lady died and her father had been beheaded in King Joffrey’s orders and called it mercy. These experiences must have darkened her a bit.

She blinked her eyes again and again. She tried her best to hold back tears, and crying would only make her seem more weak in the eyes of the capital, and she didn’t want to give the Lannisters the satisfaction. As she felt her soft hair against the bristles, Shae seemed to glance at her and questioned:

“Are you sure you’re alright, my lady? You seem a bit tense.”

She scoffed. “How could I not be? My father died and I was to be beaten by Joffrey’s men in public.”

“Hush, now, my lady,” Shae soothed. “It had all passed, and I don’t think it would be wise to dwell on those thoughts.”

Shae carried on brushing her hair and then, Sansa added, “And then a man was about to come at me.”

When she heard that, Sansa no longer felt the brush against her hair. “What? When did this happen?”

“A few moments ago,” she answered as she turned to face Shae. “He was about to come at me and greet me.” She took a pause as she thought about it. “I’m not sure if he was being friendly or not, though. After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure what to think. Nevertheless, I didn’t feel safe.”

Shae gave a sympathetic smile and stroked the girl’s hair. “Just don’t worry about it, my lady. Perhaps he did not intend any harm to you.”

Sansa agreed with a tone of doubt. “Perhaps… I hope not.”

But Sansa sensed there was something unnatural about him.


	14. Bran

Days have passed and it had been a while since they have found Lady Daeltrix in the godswood. He was used to her and so was Rickon (who eventually calmed down), and she was very nice indeed as well as graceful. But there was one thing he did not like: she was strange. There were plenty of times when he caught her spinning herself around in such an unnatural way, then he would see her balancing herself on fences and not just that, she pretended to fight with a sword when he was actually using a long branch she found. She really was very strange. But still, he found her likeable and that’s what mattered to him most. The girl would often share things with him and Bran often appreciated that – he liked that a lot and it seemed to give him comfort after the events in the godswood and the fact that he really missed his father and his two sister despite not saying so out loud. And of course, she eventually became his constant companion, which was nice for a change. Osha, however, he could not trust. After that incident with the Wildlings, which the boy eventually discovered they were, he would always find a way to avoid her bewildering gaze. This was why he would be in Daeltrix’s company more often. Even though she was strange, she was fun to be with, and at supper time she would sometimes tell him stories. That, he enjoyed more than hearing Old Nan’s voice.

“And then the ring was finally thrown to the rivers of fire, and the deranged creature fell with it,” she said to Bran and the others one time. “That was how the two hobbits saved the world of Middle Earth.”

Bran smiled while Rickon tilted his head.

“Did they ever return home?” the youngest of them all asked.

“Yes, they did,” she affirmed. “But they were never the same. And after having such a big adventure, how could they? It impacted on them greatly, and it had inspired them to tell stories of their own.” She took a short pause. “And that’s how the story ends.”

Bran saw his brother grin at her widely. “Your stories are quite interesting, my lady. Where did you hear them from?”

The girl turned to look at Robb and smiled back. “My mother and father. They would often tell me such stories for me to be able to go to sleep.” She took another pause and found herself remembering fondly. “And I miss them more than I can bear.”

“I understand.” He nodded, glanced up and down at her and sighed. “I hope the Gods are looking after them well.”

“Me too,” she agreed.

Then, the conversation had been left there.

 

*       *       *

 

Bran had noticed something funny, and it was the way Robb always looked at the girl. It was as if he were smitten by her and the thought of that was strange to the boy (but that was probably because he had never seen his brother infatuated with ayone). And it also made him feel uncomfortable for some unkown reason.

Bran kept staring at the girl as she kept balancing herself on the fence. She elengantly jumped and stood there with the one foot, hands and arms were at the air and she looked like a bird about to fly… or at least that was what it made him think of.

The boy blinked his eyes, stared at her one more time and asked, “Daeltrix, what do you think of my brother?”

“Which one?” she asked as she lowered her leaning leg and lifted up the other higher.

“Robb,” he said. “What do you think of him?”

At that, Daeltrix lowered her arms, looked at the boy and blinked her eyes as well. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering.”

The girl stood with both her feet on the fence. It was so surprising how she did not fall to the ground. “Well, I think your brother is very kind indeed. He allowed me to stay here when I had nowhere else to go, and I think that is a very nice gesture coming from him.”

“Anything else?”

She pouted her lip a bit. “It’s nice to have a conversation with him,” she added, “but other than that nothing I can think of. Why do you want to know?”

Bran tilted his head and grinned a her a bit. “Well, I’m just asking.” He took a short pause. “I just think my brother likes you very much.”

She laughed a bit and felt herself fall to the ground, and surprisingly, she landed on her feet. “Me? In what way?”

Bran hesitated for a while longer when he was about to answer her, “In a way that he seems enchanted to you.”

At that, Daeltrix’s smile faded. She didn’t seem happy to hear this, and now Bran really regretted saying this to her. The girl glanced first at her feet, and then at the young wolf. Her hazel eyes blinked as she questioned, “Really? What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know…” he replied thoughtfully. “I-I just thought that because of the way he looks at you… and the way he speaks to you.”

The girl gave out a sigh, looked in a bit of shock and muttered, “I should have known.”

“Do you like him back?”

 

_Why on earth was he so interested in that?_

 

She chuckled at that and shook her head lightly. “No, of course not. Not in that manner, anyway. I rather see him more as a friend.”

For some reason, he found himself surprisingly relieved that he heard that. He didn’t know why, but he just did. The boy grinned sheepishly as Daeltrix approached him, smiled and asked, “Now why would a boy as young as you want to know that? Shouldn’t you be more interested in sword fights and becoming someone great?”

He nodded. “I am, of course I am… but ever since I fell over, I could no longer dream of being a knight.”

She looked at bit saddened at him. “That is quite sad, and a shame too.” She took a pause as she stroked his cheek for a brief while. “I think if your legs were still in use and you practiced your skills, you would have become a great one.”

The boy blushed. “Well… I can only dream.”

Daeltrix giggled softly as she stared at him for a longer while and drew her hand away from his face. Now his cheek felt empty without it. He placed his hand there, still feeling the genuine touch she gave him and grinned at her. And for a while he thought. It was as though she seemed a bit distressed when he mentioned Robb. It was as if she had known about those things already, and Bran didn’t want to be rude. But literally, he could not help himself.

“I know it’s not in my place to ask but… have you ever been in love?”

Daeltrix gave out a sad smile. It was as if she had seen this coming, and she did not shout or retort. Rather, she nodded and went on to say. “Yes I have… it was a long time ago.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. We just stopped talking, eventually.” She glanced at Bran as he still gave that curious gaze of his. “It’s a very sad story, so you wouldn’t want to hear,” she explained.

Bran nodded and felt guilty for asking this. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shrugged once more. “It doesn’t matter anymore. After all, he was never really worth it.”

For a while, they were silent and Bran questioned himself why he felt so curious to even know that. He felt s bad for making her answer that, and he did not mean to pry in anyway. But still, he did and it may have been too much to know. He felt so bad, he could see her eyes sulk whilst she seemed to briefly remember those memories.Bran hoped this bad feeling she had would not last. Maybe he should apologize to her for even questioning this.

His thoughts have been disrupted as soon as she patted his head, grinned at him and said, “I think we should head back. Your brother has called forth his bannermen for a feast.”

Bran agreed. “Yes, we should.”

 

*       *       *

 

He had been readied for the feast and now everyone was in the hall. Bolton’s, Karstark’s and Umber’s… they were all there, and Bran sat between Theon and Daeltrix. The reason why they have all been called here was because Robb had received a letter from Sansa, saying that his father was a traitor to the realm and that his oldest brother should come and pay fealty to the crown. Robb was angry and shocked at the news, and he had called his bannermen to go with him to King’s Landing. This was why they were all here.

Everyone ate meat and drank mead. Along with those came other various platters and the clamour filled the hall where they all devoured the food. It was then when the Greatjon eventually blurted out his words.

“For thirty years have I made corpses out of men, boy! I’m the man you want leading the vanguard!”

However, Robb said noting yet. Bran and Theon glanced at each other for a brief while and turned to look at the Lord Regent of Winterfell.

“Galbart Glover will lead the van,” he disagreed with the Greatjon.

The old man looked in disbelief. “The bloody wall will melt before an Umber marches behind a Glover!” he complained. “I will lead the van or I will take my men and march them home!”

Bran didn’t even understand what was happening. He gazed from Umber to Robb, all over again. His oldest brother glared right at the Greatjon and assured:

“You are welcome to do so, Umber,” and after, he stood up. “But when I am done with the Lannister’s I will march back north, root you out of your keep and hang you for an oathbreaker.”

This time, the man felt like Robb had gone too far, and his face did seem like he was flaring. “OATHBREAKER, IS IT?!” he cried and stood up as well. As soon as that happened, everyone looked at him. “I WILL NOT SIT HERE AND SWALLOW THE INSULTS FROM A BOY SO GREEN HE PISSES GRASS!”

And then, they all saw that he was about to take out his sword, only to be stopped by a galloping Grey Wind. The direwolf ran across the table and towards him, and then he charged at the Greatjon. At that, Daeltrix gasped in shock, Bran seemed surprised and everyone merely stared.The man kept screaming as the wolf jumped on him and bit off his fingers. When that happened, the man cried even louder and Bran noticed Daeltrix flinching a bit. She would have probably thought that painful, and she was right. It would be very painful indeed.

Once the wolf got off him and ran back to Robb, Umber stood up in utter shock and Robb Stark glanced up and down at him.

“My lord father taught me it was death to bare steel against your liege lord.”

At that, the Greatjon huffed.

“But doubtless, the Greatjon only meant to cut the meat for me.”

The man, who was still in pain, threw his chair to the ground, glared at him for a while and exclaimed in disbelief. “YOUR MEAT?!”

Everyone seemed silent for a while and Umber realized that everyone was staring a him. Slowly, a smile creeped in his face and showed his mutilated fingers.

“Is bloody tough,” he spoke more calmly. Then, he began to laugh.

After, Robb joined in and so did the others. It went on and on until the room was filled with laughter. At that, Bran sheepishly grinned, still not understanding what was going on, whilst Daeltrix gave out a sigh and seemed angry at their sense of humour. “Men,” he heard her mutter.

Bran looked at her and said, “It’s alright. They’re all good now.”

“I know they’re all _good_ , Bran,”she pointed out between greeted teeth. “I’m just appalled at their sense of humor.” As they all went back to their meals and drinks, the girl stood up and said, “I’m retiring to the dorm now.”

Bran seemed a bit surprised. “So soon? But it’s too early to go to bed.”

“I know,” she agreed. “I’m only going to read and avoid any further jokes coming from them.” She took a short pause as she looked at him one last time ad curtsied. “Have a nice evening, my lord.”

Then, she walked away and left the hall. Bran felt so disappointed when the girl had gotten out, and now he had no one else to talk to but northern men who were his friends. Yet still, he wanted to have a simple conversation with the girl as usual, and tonight he could not do that.


	15. Robb

Eventually, his two brothers made their way for bed, and Robb and the bannemen stayed up late feasting and planning. Soon after the feast was over, Robb went upstairs and looked for Bran, Rickon and Daeltrix. He was to say goodbye to them before he were to head south, towards King’s Landing.

The first room he entered was Bran’s. He tiptoed his way to his brother, who was sleeping so peacefully. Robb grinned at him a bit, happy at the fact that his brother slept well, but still, he knew that feeling would not last.

He gently placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and as soon as he felt it, Bran jerked and gasped as he turned to look at his oldest brother.

“Ah! What is it?! What’s happened?”

“Shh… it’s alright,” he soothed. It’s just me.”

Bran blinked his eyes as Robb kept looking at him. The boy glanced up and down at him, realizing that he was not ready for bed. Bran must have known something was up, and Robb was not so surprised by this.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“South,” he answered. “To Father.”

Bran seemed surprised by this. “B-but it’s the middle of the night.”

“The Lannister’s have spies everywhere,” he explained. “I don’t want them to know we’re coming.”

The boy nodded and looked down at his lap. He understood, yet Bran looked sad and scared. “They have more men than we do.”

“Aye, they do.” This was definitely something Robb could not disagree with.

The boy blinked his eyes, stared at his brother and insisted: “Can’t I come with you? I can ride now. You’ve seen me ride, I won’t get in the way—”

It broke Robb’s heart to think that Bran still dreamed of being a knight and that he could no longer walk and his horse riding was not so perfect yet. He would have given anything to make that happen, but alas he could not, for he was also too young to go with them. “There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” He took a short pause. “Until I return, that will be you.” At that thought, Bran gulped. Robb knew his young brother was scared but he really needed to get to the point. “You are not to leave the castle walls when we are gone. Do you understand?”

The boy was scared and scarcely understood, but regardless  of that he nodded.

“Listen to Maester Luwin,” Robb added. “Look after your little brother.”

“I will,” he promised.

Then, the oldest brother gave out a saddened grin. “I’ll send letters whenever I can, but if you don’t hear from me, don’t be scared.”

Bran kept blinking his brown eyes, and his throat was filled with dry air. How could such a little boy take these things in and just listen and obey? Robb knew that had he been in Bran’s place, it would have been hard for him. But then again, he knew that people eventually had to grow up, and so did he.

Robb took one last look at him, placed his hand on his shoulder and whispered, almost tearfully, “Until I return.”

For a while both siblings stared, knowing that this could be the last time they would see each other. Once that moment ended, Robb stood up and left the dorm as he headed to see Rickon.

 

*      *      *

 

Robb had been to his youngest brother’s bedroom, but the young child was nowhere in sight. That saddened him, but time was running out. He needed to go, and go fast. As he left Rickon’s room, he then went on to see the last person: Daeltrix.

He knocked on the door three times. He waited for an answer. Then, a response came from the girl and Robb came inside. As expected, Daeltrix sat at the desk reading a book and wearing her nightgown. He smiled as soon as he saw her.

“My lord!” she placed her book down, stood up and stared at him in a bit of surprise. “You’re here!”

He nodded. “That, I am, my lady.” He took a short pause as he stared at her. “I came to say goodbye.”

The girl shook her head lightly. “What do you mean?”

“I’m marching south. Me and my bannermen are going towards King’s Landing, to try and rescue father.”

The girl looked sadly at him. It was as if she knew something bad was to happen. Or perhaps it was just a face of worry. But either way, Robb didn’t like that look she had on her.

“What is it?”

She shook her head. “N-nothing. I-I just hope everything works out, that’s all.”

He smiled again. “Me too, Daeltrix.”

For a while they stared at each other. He knew this was it and that this might be the last time he was to see Lady Daeltrix. That thought made him distressed.

Robb gave out a curt nod and headed towards the door whilst the girl looked at him longer.

“Wait!” she halted him, and at the sound of her voice, he turned himself around and faced her. The girl blinked her eyes as she said, “Before you go, there’s something you must know.”

Robb had to go. He really did have to go. But he knew that he would not be able to march if he left the girl’s words unsaid. Robb glanced at her, approached her and asked, “And what would that be, my lady?”

She blinked her hazel eyes and looking guiltily at him. Robb had no idea why she was gazing at him that way and that puzzled him. But what Daeltrix was about to tell him did even more so.

“I lied to you… about who I am and where I came from.”

Robb looked baffled. He had no idea what she was saying, and this was really making him confused. “W-what do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“I lied about everything…” she looked sheepish. “Everything but a few things.”

Then, Robb stood right before her, just to listen to her story.

“It is true that my parents died and that I have left home because of the pain, but… what I didn’t tell you was that I am not from Westeros… or anywhere here in this case.”

Now he looked even more confused. “What, you’re not from far south?”

She shook her head. “I’m not from this world. I’m from elsewhere. Far away… where the sun, stars and the moon alight every single day and spun around in a circle…” she took one moment’s break. “Somewhere where I mourned and grieved in my days. Somewhere I no longer wanted to be.” She then glanced at him, who seemed so attentive. “Do you want to know the truth? Well, here it is. I’m a time traveler and I had been traveling in time and space with two companions. The last thing I remember before waking in Winterfell was being with them, and one by one we got separated. I don’t understand why it happened and how, but I do long to see them, although it’s unlikely now.”

From all this, there was one thing he misunderstood. “So you’re going to leave as well?”

The girl denied this with a bob of her head. “How can I? I have no means of traveling myself. Nothing other than my feet anyway. And my friends would not be at sight and are hard to find. How can I find them when I am lost in such a wide world, where they could be anywhere else?” She took a pause. “I have nowhere to go, and no other choice but to stay here. It will be much safer seeing as this is the only place I know thus far.”

Robb wasn’t exactly happy to hear this, but he really had no time to feel annoyed, let alone angry to find this out now. The only thing he could do was listen to her attentively.

“I appreciate every kindness you have done to me, and I thank you for this. Which is why I tell you the truth now. I thought it would be unfair if I never told you.”

Robb looked a bit distraught. Why did she not say this before? Why did she not say this the day she had arrived at Winterfell?

“And you’re telling me now?”

She nodded sheepishly. Robb groaned, looked to the other side and avoided her gaze for a moment.

 

_How could she not have told him this, or anyone in that matter?_

 

Then, he looked at her again. “Why, Daeltrix? Why did you lie?” Robb questioned sadly. “Why didn’t you tell us this?”

Daeltrix took one deep breath and stared at him. “Because I didn’t think you’d understand the depth of my situation, Robb Stark.” She took a short pause. “It’s too complex.”

Robb nodded and gave out a small grin. The girl blinked her eyes, almost  tearfully and said:

“I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you the truth earlier, my lord. I wasn’t sure whether I could trust any of you when I first got here. I…” She gave out a sigh. “I guess I must have been stupid not to do so.”

Robb placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. “No… never stupid. I can understand the fear you must have felt, and I forgive you.” He then took one second’s thought. “Had I been in your position I probably would have done the same.”

Daeltrix gave out a grin whilst Robb still looked a bit solemn.

“But it was still reckless of you to do that. I could have tried to help you look for them.”

“No, you couldn’t Robb. This is far from the understanding of your world, and what happened, we don’t know how it got triggered. Swords and eyes have no use with this, and neither do the ears. There is no point in looking for them if I know they would not be anywhere on sight. And even if you did want to help me, I wouldn’t let you.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “Your father is there in King’s Landing, taken by unfair people. There is no way I would let you abandon your family. They need you. They all need you.”

For a while, Robb stared. It felt comforting to know that someone was there to do him some kindness and give him these words. But still, he was not happy at the fact that Daeltrix had lied to him despite being for good reasons. Her hand comforted him, and it made him feel sad. He placed a hand on hers and gently removed it and held onto it as Daeltrix looked up and down at him for a brief while, grinned and said, “I know I shouldn’t ask forgiveness for my lies. But I want to make up for it.” She took a brief pause. “I promise that whilst you’re away, I will try my best to protect both Rickon and Bran with my life.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that, my lady.”

“Yes I do!” she insisted. “You took me in whilst I have lied to you, accepted me as I am. The least I can do is protect them!”

He gave out a sigh. “But what about your friends?”

“I have been here for far too long and I have lost hope in them. I highly doubt they’re ever going to turn up.” She took a pause as Robb looked in a bit of sadness. “I’ll stay here and give you all my loyalty. I’ll be happy to do that.”

Robb grinned and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Then, I thank you for that. And I thank you for giving time to tell the truth.”

The girl grinned a bit. She glanced up and down at him and said, “I’m surprised you didn’t get angry at me.”

He shook his head a bit. “No, I couldn’t get angry at you, Daeltrix. I only felt disappointed. How can I be angry at someone who has brought such happiness whilst the rest of the family was absent? You had taken care of Rickon and had become like a sister to me, and as well as that, you became Bran’s greatest companion. That we are all glad of.” Out of all of them, Bran was the happiest with her and Robb could only guess how fond of her he had become. He could only guess perhaps his little brother liked her very much to the point of having such feelings, and that slightly amused him. But today it was not a laughing matter. He had just found out the girl lied to them about where she came from, and he was bound for King’s Landing tonight. It was hard enough to make do with acceptance and a brief reconciliation, as well as giving time to listen. I think Daeltrix knew that as well. The girl gave a small grin as Robb tilted his head and asked:

“What? What is it?”

She shook her head lightly. “Nothing. It’s just that I saw you as a brother too.” She then glanced at him and chuckled a bit. “Bran thought that you would have liked me in some other way.”

Robb seemed confused. “What other way is there?”

Daeltrix blinked her eyes and said shyly, “…you know. As lovers do.”

As soon as he heard that, a slight feeling of amusement came to him. “He thought I loved you in that manner?”

She nodded. By the sight of her relieved gaze, she might have thought that too. Robb gave out a small giggle and said, “That boy has some funny things deep in his head,” and to that, Daeltrix agreed.

Then, the girl stayed silent for a while, glancing back and forth at Robb. She blinked her eyes and said, “No one can know about this, especially Bran or Rickon. I’ll probably scare them if they find out.”

Robb chuckled a bit. “I doubt they’d be scared. I think they would rather be fascinated by that, especially Bran.”

Daeltrix seemed to disagree with that. “No, Robb. This is something they would not understand. Both of them would be frightened if they knew the truth.”

 “But they’re old enough to know.”

“They’re just boys, Robb,” she disagreed. “They wouldn’t understand.” She took one moment’s thought. “And with much else in mind, I don’t believe it’s a good time to tell them.”

He took one good look at Daeltrix, gave out a nod and agreed. He could tell she was very scared to even say to them who she really was. “I understand, my lady.” Briefly, both stared and Robb gave out a breath. “I should be going now.”

Then, Robb turned himself around, headed towards the door and was about to officially leave the dorm Daeltrix was in.

The girl stared, gulped thin air and looked at him one last time. “You take care, Robb. Come back to Winterfell.”

He had stopped at the gate and leaned his hand on the door handle. He gave out a sigh, turned to face her and said the last words he was to speak to her before he was to make his way south. “I’ll try.” He took one deep breath. “And if you see Rickon, please give him all my love.”

“I will,” she affirmed. “I promise.”


	16. Bran

As Bran was making his way to the godswood, he thought about last night and how distressing it was to find that his older brother left in the middle of the dark. And after that conversation, he thought about Rickon, and how he found him hiding behind the door of his dorm. It slightly pissed Bran off, but rather he was more surprised when he found him.

“How long have you been hiding out there?”

Rickon gave no response. Instead, he slowly approached his brother and looked at him almost tearfully. Annoyed at the fact that his brother gave no response, Bran gave out a sigh and said, “Robb will be looking for you to say goodbye.”

“They’ve gone all away…” he muttered.

Bran could understand how frustrating it was to find that all their loved ones were leaving. He would sometimes find himself shedding a few tears before he went to sleep, and what broke his heart most was that he never even got to say goodbye to his father and his men and Sansa and Arya.

The only thing Bran could do was try his best to give his most comforting smile and assure Rickon otherwise. “They’ll all come back soon. Robb will free father and he will return with mother, and perhaps even Sansa and Arya. You’ll see.”

The young red headed boy shook his head, let a few tears fall from his eyes and said, “No, they won’t.”

 

*      *      *

 

He had finally reached the godswood and for a long while, Bran found himself praying to the weirwood.

“Please watch over Robb, and watch over all the other men from Winterfell.” He then took a pause as he thought about Theon. “And Theon too, I suppose.” He did save his life in the godswood after all.

The suddenly heard someone approach him, but he merely ignored the sounds. As soon as he was about to finish his prayer, a voice spoke to him and startled him.

“Do you hear them, boy?” Bran said nothing. He merely gave a wary stare. “The old gods are answering you.”

His eyes quivered a bit. “What are you doing here?”

Osha, the name of the woman was, caressed the tree. “They are my gods too. Beyond the Wall they’re the only gods. Even slaves are allowed to pray.”

Bran shook his head a bit. “You’re not a slave.”

Osha tilted her head and looked at him in slight amusement. Then, she lifted her shackles and shook them as if showing the boy how trapped she was. Bran blinked his eyes and gulped a bit of thin air.

“Well, your friend did put a knife to my throat.”

“I’m not complaining, little lord,” she assured. “I’m just telling truths.”

Then, they both became silent as Osha went to stand beside the boy and before the tree. Bran blinked his eyes and considered the woman’s words. He then inclined his head a bit and asked:

“What did you mean about hearing the gods?”

“You ask them, they’re answering you.” She then hushed and Bran raised an eyebrow a bit. “Open your ears.”

Bran glanced around and heard the rustling of leaves. He didn’t know what he was listening for, so he only pointed out the obvious. “That’s just the wind.”

“Who do you think sends the wind, boy, if not the gods? They see you. They hear you.” She then took a short pause. “Your brother will get no help from them where he’s going. The old gods have no power in the south. The weirdwoods, they were all cut down a long time ago. How can they watch if they have no eyes?”

Bran thought she may had a point. It was no secret that the Power of the Seven was quite prominent at south, but still he hoped everything will turn out well for his brother.

Suddenly, they hear the thudding of feet and Bran and Osha saw Hodor completely naked. Osha laughed whilst Bran felt awkward.

“Well there’s a big man. He must have giant’s blood in him or I’m the Queen.”

“Hodor,” the simple-minded man said.

Bran blinked his eyes, gulped thin air and turned his gaze away from him. “Go back and find your clothes, Hodor.”

“Hodor,” he said and obeyed.

Osha laughed whilst Bran added, “Go dress.”

“Hodor.”

As the man had left, Bran gave out a groan, turned to Osha again and asked: “Are there really giants beyond the wall?”

“Giants, and worse than giants,” she confirmed.  “I tried telling your brother, he is marching the wrong way. All these swords, they should be going north, boy. North, not south!”

Bran merely gazed at her in bewilderment. _What on earth was she talking about?_

“The cold winds are rising…”

 

*       *       *

 

He had gone back to Winterfell with Osha and Hodor and found Daeltrix walking around the citadel. At the sight of her, Bran smiled and told the giant to bring him there.

“Daeltrix! Daeltrix!” he called out.

Daeltrix turned to see him. “Oh Bran! You’re back!”

He chuckled. “Of course I’m back. I haven’t been out for long.”

She grunted and glanced at her feet for a brief while. Then, she turned her gaze back at him. “Have you seen Rickon? It seems that he had ran off this morning.”

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen him. He didn’t accompany us to the godswood.”

She gave out a sigh. “He still must be upset about Robb leaving. I tried giving him his regards, but Rickon didn’t want to hear of it. It’s frustrating.”

Of course it’s frustrating. This was Rickon Daeltrix was talking about! He’s a stubborn little boy who could annoy the living life out of him. But as he thought this, Bran merely nodded. “I understand. I tried reassuring him that Robb will come back with the rest of the family and he didn’t believe me.”

She considered him for a brief while. “And do you believe they’ll come back, my lord?”

Bran thought about it for a brief while. He actually had no idea what to believe and he felt himself confused as he remembered what happened so far. Father had left for King’s Landing with Sansa and Arya, as well as some northern men, mother had left and Father had been arrested for treason. Then, Robb had left them all to march south…. He ready did wish he knew what to think. The only thing he could do was grin a bit and answer, “I hope so.”

Daeltrix smiled back and said, “Come on, let us dine now.”

Bran agreed to that.

 

*        *        *

 

They both had their meals in the dining hall and no one said a word for a while. Bran merely glared at his food whilst Daeltrix was about finished with her plate. Today he must have been so slow at eating.

Daeltrix had noticed this, placed her cutlery down and asked, “Is everything alright Bran? You had been very quiet?”

He glanced at her. “Is that a good thing, or bad?”

“Mmm… heading towards the bad, actually. I like it when you talk to me.”

At that, Bran blushed slightly and hoisted his eyebrows. “Really?”

She nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do. It means you’re happy. You become quiet, I know something is wrong.”

Once again, he gulped thin air and stared at the girl with a bit of fright.

“Is everything alright?”

He nodded slightly. “I’m fine. It’s just that…” his voice suddenly died as he noticed her staring even more attentively. That made him very nervous. “I-I worry about my brother, and the men… even Theon.”

Daeltrix smiled sympathetically and placed her hand on the table. It was as if she was reaching something… and Bran dreaded to think what it would be. She took a deep breath and exhaled, smiled even more and asked, “Is it alright if I take your hand, my lord?”

 _Why would you want to hold my hand?_ Bran merely nodded and accepted hers. The girl blinked her hazel eyes, gave out a sigh and asked as she slightly wavered both their hands together. That made Bran chuckle a little bit. “Brandon Stark of Winterfell… do you trust your brother’s wisdom?”

He hesitated at first, but then he had realized why she was asking this. “Yes.”

“And do you find him strong?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe the men that accompanied him, and even Theon, will stay loyal to him even unto death?”

Bran laughed a bit. Why on earth did she have to go all the way there? “Yes, I do.”

“Then, Bran Stark of Winterfell, Robb will be fine, as will the men and Theon. I’m sure they will come back with some tales of their own to tell. They will speak of Robb’s bravery and your family will all be together again.”

The words the girl said made Bran smile, and it certainly made him feel better. No one could assure him this as well as she did, and he was grateful for her to take away his doubt in this time. He took a breath and said, “If you trust, then I don’t doubt. Thank you for the assurance.”

Daeltrix beamed even more and giggled. Then, Bran eyed his hand and asked, “Can you let go of my hand? I need to eat.”

“Of course,” she then let go.

Bran had his hand back and took hold of his cutlery. He began to eat his food again and ate bits and pieces of it. He wasn’t really hungry, but he knew he would need energy for the rest of the day, whether it was to pray again, or to ride his horse or even just to be awake. Either way, he just needed food. And once he was finished eating for the moment, he placed the cutlery down, swallowed the piece of meat and faced Daeltrix again.

“I’m sorry for doubting my brother. I know I shouldn’t.”

She shook her head lightly and gazed in a bit of disbelief. “You didn’t doubt, and you shouldn’t apologize to me, Bran. You have every right to worry about your family. It is only natural, so there is no need to be sorry. Remember that next time.”

He nodded. “I will, my lady.”

Daeltrix smiled, got another serving of the food and began eating again. As Bran watched her do so, he thought about the words that Osha spoke to him. _Your brother is marching the wrong way_. _All these swords should be going north, not south_. Bran really didn’t understand why the Wildling woman was saying these things. Then, his eyes turned to the girl again once his thought was done, cleared his throat and spoke:

“Osha says Robb is marching the wrong way.”

The girl just finished swallowing a piece of meat. “What do you mean?”

“That’s the thing, I have no idea what she’s going on about.” He took a short pause. “She must be scared of something.”

“What do you think is up at the further north?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know… but she said that there are giants and worse things.” He took a pause as he glaced at his plate, and then at the girl. “What about you? Do you know what lies beyond the wall?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve never been so far north.” She took one good swallow of her food once she finished devouring. Then, she took one good look at Bran and asked, “Do you believe what Osha says is true?”

Bran blinked his eyes and shook his head. “How can I? Robb is going to King’s Landing to get father I find that more important than what is up there right now. If only she explained why, then I would understand.”


	17. Clara

In her new dorm, Clara tried one of her new gowns: a nice dress made of a thin satin pink cloth that shaped her perfectly shaped body and a silver thin collar that wrapped itself around her neck. The woman span herself around, admiring the beauty of the garment she was given. She glanced up and down at herself and chuckled in a bit of delight.

“It’s beautiful, Missandei,” she said.

Missandei, who helped her with the dress smiled. “It is, my lady. Her Grace gives it to you as a welcome to the kingdom of Meereen.”

She chuckled again. “Well, that’s very kind of her. Could you thank her in my part?”

Missandei smiled. “You can thank her youself later, Lady Clara.”

Clara blinked her eyes. _Don’t servants do people’s bidding ususally?_ “What do you mean?” she asked.

“The Queen invites you to dine with her in her dorm. She would like for you to come when you’re ready.”

“Oh!” _I’m flattered_. “Well, I’ll go there right away.”

“Ah… my lady,” Missandei halted as Clara was about to go there, “are you sure you should go there looking like this?”

Clara seemed surprised at this. For some reason, this handmaiden was slightly keen to piss her off. It was lucky for her that she wasn’t feeling that right now. “What are you talking about?”

“Y-your hair…” the woman pointed out shyly.

“Why?” Clara questioned. “Won’t my hair do?”               

She shook her head. “No, my lady. Your hair may be beautiful, but i-it’s too plain.”

“Oh…” Well, Clara did agree that it was a bit. However, she really didn’t want a full-on make-over. Regardless of that, though, she asked, “And what would you suggest then?”

Missandei grinned, told Clara to come forth and sit down before the vanity desk and the mirror. Clara reluctantly did so and stared at herself before the mirror. She could see the handmaiden begin to brush her hair. It felt weird for Clara that someone else was brushing her hair, since usually, she would do it herself. Clara felt so pampered she wondered whether it would be like this everyday at Meereen. This must be what it really felt like to be a Queen.

The handmaiden kept twisting the soft hair of Clara Oswald, slowly pilling it up and tying a thin and beeded diadem along with it all. Clara blinked her eyes again, glanced at her side and questioned:

“So, Missandei, why am I having my hair done?”

“Her Grace would like you to look lovely at supper. She also said that you should take your time and come whenever you’re ready.”

 _You mean whenever you think I’m ready_. “Hmm… Her grace is very kind indeed.”

“She is,” the woman agreed with a wide grin. “I was freed from Yunkai by her, you know.”

At that, Clara seemed a bit astonished. “Really? What happened there?”

“I used to be a slave, and Her Grace freed all the people like me. Now I have a better life. “At that, Clara grinned. “Had I not been so I would still be there.”

And it still amazed Clara. She remembered hearing from Dale that the Mother of Dragons had gone through the feeling of oppression and because of that she would, from then on, free all the slaves. “Wow… she really must be dedicated to that sort of thing.”

At that, Missandei grunted as she put up the finishing touches. Once she was done with Clara’s hair, the woman looked down at the guest and said, “Now you are ready for supper, my lady.”

Clara took one good look at herself and dropped her mouth open. She looked so differently from before, and now she felt she resembled more a princess. The woman had no doubt that Dale would have loved it had she seen her, but looking at herself made her wonder one thing: would the Doctor think her beautiful if he saw her? Would he like it? Well, she would never know.

“Wow…” Clara muttered under her breath. “I love it.” She then turned to look at Missandei. “Thank you so much, Missandei.”

The handmaiden gave out a shy and small laugh as she said, “You’re welcome, my lady.”


	18. Daenerys

There, Daenerys was waiting sitting at the table, which was filled with delicious meats and platters of food. She smiled as she glanced around, gladdened to know that everything was ready for the time when she was to eat with her guest. Then, a knock resonated and the Mother of Dragons allowed entrance. There came Missandei with her guest. She looked so beautiful, and Daenerys was quite fascinated by the sight of her. She was right to have chosen that particular gown for tonight, and it went well against her slight darker skin. _It was lovely_ , Daenerys thought.

“The Lady Clara of Oswald, your Grace. She comes to sup with you.”

Daenerys stood up and face the woman for gratitude. “Thank you Missandei. You may go now.”

The woman curtsied and left the room. Once the woman was gone, she saw Clara stand there meekly and the Khaleesi gave out a smile. She knew she would look wonderful in one of these.

“You look lovely, my lady.”

Clara chuckled. “Thank you, your Grace.” She took a small pause. “And I very much appreciate the clothes you gave me. I thank you for them too, they’re beautiful.”

Daenerys smiled even more. She was so glad that the guest really liked the gowns that had been picked out for her. “Well, I’m glad you like them, my lady.” She stayed silent for a bit as Clara smiled back at her. Then, her arm gestured towards the table and said, “Please, come and have supper with me.”

Clara gave a curt nod, curtsied and followed Daenerys to the table. She sat herself down and so did the Mother of Dragons. At the sight of the food, Clara gasped and seemed keen to eat, and that made the woman grin. She gave out a chuckle and said, “Feel free to eat all you want, my lady. You must be hungry after the long  journey.”

She seemed a bit surprised. “Are you sure I’m allowed to start?”

She nodded. “Of course. You are my guest, Clara Oswald, and you can do as you please.”

She gasped and laughed again. “Well, thank you, your Grace.”

“Please, just call me Daenerys, or Dany will do.”

Clara grinned. “Well thank you, Daenerys.”

She smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

 

*      *      *

 

Daenerys ate her supper, but she did not eat as much as Clara did. The woman who became her guest began grabbing onto pieces of meat and biting through them. She took every piece of grape and devoured it all. She was eating everything that came her way and juices ran down deom her lips to her chin. Daenerys had no idea why, but she found the sight adorable – when other people would find it disgusting. _She does need to clean herself a bit, though_ , mused Daenerys in her mind. The Mother of Dragons gave out a sigh as she leaned her back against the chair and her purple eyes kept glancing at her.

“Are you enjoying your supper, Clara?”

Clara took a pause with her meat. “Oh yes, I am. Thank you.” She then took another mouth full of meat. “I have never been so famished in my life!” she remarked with her mouth full.

Daenerys laughed. “That’s alright. For weeks my khalasar and I went without having any food or drink when we were at the empty plains. When I reached Qarth I had a similar reaction to yours.”

Clara stopped eating. “How come you were all out in the desert?”

“Like you, we were going for a long walk.” She took a short pause. “You see, I was marching them all and we were all making our way to Westeros, where my family lived. My father had the Iron Throne and seeing as I am the only Targaryen left in the family, it is mine by birthright and I am willing to take it back. But for now I am to rule Meereen.”

The woman nodded. “I understand.”

Daenerys smiled and Clara chuckled as well for a brief while, and then realized that fluid ran running down her chin. “Oh! I’m sorry for looking a mess!”

“No, no, that’s alright! You can eat in any way you please. I can only guess how long you’ve been out there for.”

Clara took a napkin and wiped herself meekly. And then, Daenerys went on to ask:

“Do you remember where you were headed, lady Clara?”

She denied this. “No, I don’t. It has been too long since I’ve been out here.”

Daenerys nodded. “I understand. I’m guessing you are having one of those times in which you are very confused about who you are and where you come from.”

Clara seemed surprised by this. It was as if Daenerys understood her clearly, and the woman nodded. At least Daenerys knew she wasn’t the only one who ever felt this. “Yes, I do feel like that sometimes.” She took a pause as she looked into the Khaleesi’s eyes. “What a surprise…”

She grunted. “It’s alright, I understand how it feels. I was born out of Westeros and I had gone to places for far too long. I stayed at Pentos and then made my way to Vaes Dothrak, back in the days when my brother Viserys was alive. Then, I made my way to cities like Qarth and Yunkai until I have reached Meereen. There are times when I wish I could just settle down in one place and call it home.” She took a pause as she looked at Clara’s intrigued face. It was beautiful and Daenerys felt her gaze drawn towards it. “So, my lady, I understand perfectly what you’re going through.”

“Well…” muttered Clara. “I thank you, Daenerys Stormborn.”

Daenerys blinked her purple eyes and stared at Clara for a very long time. How can a woman ever draw her attention in such a way? How could a woman as beautiful as her make her want to see or hear more of her? Nothing has made her this way since Khal Drogo, but this was way different. It was as if she were attracted to a woman, and it must have been because of her exoticness that Daenerys felt keen to look at Clara for a long while. She gave out another grunt, grinned again and was about to go back to eating. However, they were disrupted by a door knock.

“Come in!” she said.

Then, came inside Ser Barristan, her loyal friend and adviser. The white-haired man came towards her and Daenerys grinned slightly at him.

“Ser Barristan,” she greeted. “How do things fare?”

“Not good, your Grace,” he answered. She had noticed that the man had a piece of parchment with him and felt curious as to what it was he came to her about. “There is something you must see?”

“Oh?” she hoisted her brow a bit.

Ser Barristan gave the parchment to her finally and keenly, Daenerys opened it to see what it was. But then, her excitement died as soon as she saw what it was. Her eyes widened, her skin paled even more and a feeling of shock ran through her body. This was a letter giving Ser Jorah a pardon from King Robert, the Usurper.

She was shocked, and angry. She was so shocked, she had no idea what to say. She placed the paper down and she suddenly forgot about the fact that Clara was there. But then again, how could she think of her guest when she just found this out?

Daenerys felt like crying, but se kept her cool thus far. She merelyturned her eyes to the knigh once more and gulped tense, thin air.

“Are you certain this is true?” asked Daenerys to Ser Barristan.

The man still looked solemn. He stared for a while and Daenerys saw something she did nut want to see this time: Ser Barristan nodded, and meant one thing, that Ser Jorah Mormont had been a traitor right from the start.


	19. Tyrion

Wine was poured for the man, and the Doctor thanked him for the drink.

“Thank you, Lannister.”

He poured some for himself. “You’re quite welcome, Doctor.” He then drank some from his cup and gulped it. “So, did you find anything?”

“Only one thing,” he answered. “Pieces of parchment came flying out of nowhere.”

 _How odd…_ Tyrion seemed surprised. “Really? Has someone been tearing books apart and throwing them out at the wind?”

The Doctor shook his head. “Not that I know of. All I did was ask people about whether they saw my spaceship, but most of them ran away.”

“Ah, of course! The people of King’s Landing are _so_ friendly…” he said dryly. “You didn’t say the word ‘spaceship’, did you? ‘Cause if you did, no one would have any idea what it would mean.”

The Doctor chuckled. “You don’t know what it means either, imp.”

“Careful, now…” warned Tyrion calmly. “I’m starting to like you, but that doesn’t mean you can call me ‘imp’. And besides, I, knowing the word, would make me smarter than the rest of them.”

He chuckled. “That’s true…” he took a short pause. “And no, I didn’t say the word ‘spaceship’; I referred to it as a large blue box, seeing as that is what it would look like.”

He shrugged. “Well, I can’t say it’s true, seeing as I never saw it.”

The Doctor gave out a grunt as he took a sip from his cup. Tyrion did the same as he eyed him. Once the Doctor finished his gulp of fair wine, he took one moment to think and said, “I tried my best to follow your advice, Tyrion Lannister, but an unfortunate event happened.”

“Hmm? What was it?”

“Your sister,” he said. “I met her.”

As soon as Tyrion heard this, he knew no good would come of it. His sister was an ambitious bitch who would do anything to get her way… and yes, it was the same with his nephew, but the right word for him would be bastard. But then again, he did not hear the Doctor say he met his nephew, he met his mother, and Tyrion knew that bad things would follow after meeting Cersei. “Really?” he questioned. “How did that happen?”

He hesitated with a groan. “It must have been my fault. I felt eyes watching me and saw a girl standing there in shock.”

“Ah! So you saw two people.”

He nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“And what did this one look like?”

“Uh… Young,” he started. “Tall with red hair and pale skin and blue eyes. Yes, she was very young indeed.”

“Hmmm… I think I know who you saw just then.” He took a pause as he placed his cup down and cleared his throat. “That would be Lady Sansa Stark, daughter of Eddard Stark of Winterfell. She now lives here.”

The Doctor seemed intrigued. “For how long?”

“Months, actually,” Tyrion answered as he was to take another gulp of wine.

“Does she like it here?”

The dwarf shrugged. “Who knows? She’s far too quiet. I wish she would speak more.”

“And how old is she exactly?”

“Thirteen,” answered. “An innocent maid of thirteen who is far too quiet and scared to say anything. But then again how could you not be if you were living under the same roof as my sister and my nephew? They’re ruthless and stupid, I’d say. They had her father killed and called it mercy and now she’s a hostage, since her brother declared war on us. Stupid move, it was.  And not to mention that every single person in King’s Landing has their pair of ears everywhere.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “How does that work? You can’t cut one hear and throw it at the other side!”

“No, no, no, Doctor…” _Is he really that daft or did he take it literally?_ “I mean that they have spies everywhere.”

“Oh! Now I understand.”

“Hmm… and about my sister,” he suddenly changed topic. “What happened?”

“Well, I was trying to say hello to the girl and the Queen sent her off and confronted me. She was saying that I was scaring her.”

Tyrion scoffed. “As if she even cares about her! Cersei hates Sansa! Gods know why, but for some reason she does.”

“Why? Has she ever done anything to her?”

He pouted her lip. “Nothing, other than being an innocent girl. Perhaps her presence annoys her or something?”

“But why would you hate someone for being innocent?” He took a pause as he eyed the dwarf. “Wouldn’t innocence be the best asset a person could ever have?”

He shrugged. “It seems not in Cersei’s eyes.”

The Doctor gave out a grunt as he thought for a brief while. Tyrion eyed him and rank more wine. Once his cup was drained, he filled it with more wine. When the dwarf decided to drink some more, the Doctor blinked his eyes and asked, “Wondering, what was the girl doing here in the first place?”

“Oh, she was betrothed to my nephew,” then, he corrected himself. “Still is, actually. I don’t know how she can keep up her façade with an idiot such as Joffrey.” He took a short pause. “She claims to love him, but we all know she hates him deep inside and wishes him dead.”

“Hmm… I can imagine. Having her father killed and keeping her here as a prisoner… I feel sorry for the girl.”

Tyrion studied the Doctor’s gaze for a while. He blinked his eyes and then drank more wine. Once he was done, he placed his cup down, gave out a sigh and spoke on. “Well, we have reasons for keeping her here: just in case we can negotiate with the Stark’s eventually. But I don’t ever see that happening. My nephew is a vicious idiot and my sister let him chop the girl’s father’s head off and let the sister escape. It seems she’s just stuck here for a very long time.” He took a short pause again. “You see, it wasn’t just Sansa who came here, it was her father, who was previously the Hand of the King, and her sister Arya. Everything seemed to have gone wrong somehow.”

The Doctor took another sip from his cup. “It seems so…”

Then, their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Both men turned to look at the gate and Tyrion gasped, groaned and got off his chair.

“I’ll get it,” he muttered.

The dwarf walked towards the door and opened it. A young tall boy with golden hair and an unintelligent face was there, and Tyrion recognized who this was: his cousin Lancel.

“Ah! Your visits are too few, cousin,” he said in greeting.

However, the young man didn’t greet back. He just went straight to the point. “Her Grace, the Queen Regent, commands you to release Maester Pycelle.” He then took out a scroll out of his robe. “Here’s your warrant.”

Tyrion took the parchment and opened it up, reading it for a brief while. It was definitely Cersei’s writing and this was something he was to take seriously.

“Ah, so it is.” He affirmed and then offered, “Will you take a cup with me?” Tyrion could see his young cousin seemed reluctant to do so, and that slightly amused him. “I find that mulled wine helps me sleep.”

“I am here at the Queen’s behest, imp! Not to socialize with the likes of you!”

Then, as the man was about to walk out of the room, something popped in Tyrion’s mind.

“You know, I would have thought she would have come here if she was so concerned about Maester Pycelle, but instead she sends you. Why? What am I to make of that?”

The boy gulped. “I don’t care about what you make of it, just as long as you release the prisoner immediately.”

As the boy was about to walk away, Tyrion decided to question him a bit more.

“And did Cersei give you these instructions directly?”

The boy blinked his green eyes. “As I said several times.”

“And you’ve waited how long to do this?”

Lancel gave a frightened glare. He blinked his eyes again and again, swallowed thin air and answered hesitantly, “When the Queen gives a command, I carry it without delay.”

As soon as he heard that, he rolled the scroll back and eyed the boy. “You know, my sister seems to have great trust in you, allowing you in her chamber in the hour of the wolf.”

Now Tyrion could see Lancel shake a bit. “T-the Queen has a great many responsibilities.” He gulped. “She often works from dusk ‘til dawn.”

“Yes, yes, she must be grateful, having you help her from dusk ‘til dawn,” he reiterated sarcastically. Tyrion approached Lancel as he seemed even more scared than before. As he got closer to him, a smell took over the room, a smell so prominent; Tyrion knew what it was and where it would have come from. His suspicions were now confirmed. “Ah! Lavender oil! My sister’s favorite. She had always loved lavender oil, even as a girl.”

Now Lancel seemed irritated. “I AM A KNIGHT!”

“Yes, an anointed knight,” Tyrion agreed. “Now tell me, did Cersei have you knighted before or after she took you to bed?”

Now, Lancel looked utterly shocked. _Ha, hah_ , thought Tyrion. _I finally got him!_ “What? Nothing to say? No more warnings for me, _ser_?”

“YOU WILL WITHDRAW THESE FILTHY ACCUSATIONS!” he protested.

“Or what?” the dwarf raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever given any thought as to what Joffrey would do if he ever found out you were bedding his mother?”

And finally, Tyrion stroke a blow. Lancel covered his mouth and gasped. He glanced from side to side, scared about what the dwarf could do with this information. The sight of him made Tyrion amused, and at his face, he chuckled a bit. Lancel began to flap his hands like an idiot and whined:

“I-IT’S NOT MY FAULT!”

“Oh, did she take you against your will?” the thought of that made Tyrion amused. “Can you not defend yourself, _knight_?”

“Your lord father, Tywin, told me to obey her in everything when I was the King’s squire!”

Tyrion seriously wanted to laugh. “Oh, did he tell you to fuck her too?”

“I-I only did as I was bid, I swear!”

He feigned a gasp of shock. “Oh you hated every moment, is that what you would have me believe?”  he took a short pause as he looked at him one more time. “A high place in court, a knighthood, my sister’s legs spread wide open for you at night…” then, it was as if Tyrion had a brilliant idea. “Wait here! His Grace would want to hear this.”

Lancel fell to his knees and begged, “MERCY! MERCY, MY LORD! PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU!”

“Save it for King Joffrey," he suggested. “He loves a good grovel.”

As Tyrion was about to go towards the door again, Lancel went on to explain, “It was your sister’s bidding, my lord, the Queen! I will leave the city at once, I swear!”

He didn’t seem to agree with that. “No, I think not.”

He seemed confused. “My lord?”

“You heard me,” he stated. “My father told you to obey my sister, so obey her. Stay close to her side, keep her trust. Pleasure her whenever she requires.” He took a short break from talking. “No one will need to know as long as you keep faith with me.”

The boy nodded.

“I want to know what Cersei is doing, where she is going, who she’s meeting with and what they talk about, everything,” he demanded. “And you will tell me.”

Shakenly, the boy obliged. “Yes, my lord. I swear it as your command.”

 _Finally, now I can infiltrate my sister’s plans_. Tyrion then clapped, smirked and said, “Oh rise, rise, let us drink to our understanding!” As Lancel stood up, he then realized something. “Oh wait, you don’t have a cup. Never mind.”

Lancel eyed elsewhere. Tyrion wondered for a moment. Once he turned to his back, he realized the Doctor was still there, draining his cup and the dwarf dropped his mouth open slightly. “Oh, you’re worried about him.” He then looked at his cousin. “It’s alright, he’s a friend. He will keep his lips sealed.”

Lancel nodded and began to walk away. Tyrion was patting his back.

“Oh smile, cousin!” he mock-consoled. “My sister is a beautiful woman, and it’s all for the good of the realm. Go back and tell her that I beg her forgiveness, that I want no more conflict between us and, henceforth, I shall do nothing without her consent.”

“But her demands?”

Tyrion remembered. “Oh yes, I’ll give her Pycelle.”

The boy seemed surprised. “You will?”

“Yes, yes,” he insisted as he lead Lancel out of the door. “I’ll release him in the morning. Cersei can keep him as a pet if she wants, but I will not have him in the council. I could swear that I have not harmed a single hair on his head, but strictly speaking, that’s not true.”

As Lancel was finally out of the room, Tyrion shut the door and headed back towards the table. He could see the Doctors’s shocked gaze.

“Wait, what?”

Tyrion tilted his head.

“She commits intercourse with her cousin?”

He nodded. “Yes, as well as my brother. Why do you ask?”

The Doctor shuddered at that. He felt exactly like Daeltrix when she thought about her strange dream. “Ugh! That is disgusting!”

“I could say that I agree with you, Doctor, but then again I would be lying. I find it slightly amusing how she keeps doing that. She’s leading herself to ruin’s way.”

“Ugh!” the Doctor stood up. “I think I may had had a bit too much wine, and I need to leave so I can let this sink in my mind.”

Tyrion chuckled. “Alright then. And I take it you’ll be having a look at those parchments again.”

He nodded. “As well as that, actually.” He then bowed. “Good night, Lannister.”

Tyrion greeted back, and as soon as the Doctor reached for the door, he left and slammed it shut.

 

 


	20. The Doctor

The Doctor walked through corridors, passed doors and stairs just to get to his dorm. He strolled and passed by servants and rich people alike. He ignored their curious gazes and finally reached his room.

He entered inside and shut the door. Leaning on the door, he gave out a sigh and felt himself shocked. He first went down the streets of King’s Landing and saw paper flying everywhere, he met Sansa, then Tyrion’s sister (who turns out to be in incestuous relationships) and Tyrion seemed half drunk and taunted his own cousin to eventual bribery. He didn’t know what to make of all this, but he thought, _Never mind that, I need to read those parchments now_.

The Doctor took a deep breath, exhaled and headed towards his bed. He took the pages that had been lying there the whole afternoon and had a good look at them. It was lucky that no one came here and took them, let alone touched them even for a brief while. They were still in the same place. _Very lucky indeed…_

He flicked through every page, reading every single word that had been printed there.

 

_Something was not right…_

 

The Doctor read a part in which Sansa was to be beaten up in public by Joffrey Baratheon. Then, Tyrion thankfully stopped it from happening. Educating his nephew and lecturing about some old man the Doctor never heard off, it made Joffrey stop and stand there in shock.  Thus far, everything seemed normal, but that was until he saw his own name mentioned.

 

_This was not right…._

 

 _Why on earth am I being mentioned here?_ The Doctor turned page to page and his brow furrowed in confusion. There was a passage being written about how Tyrion and Bronn had met the Doctor. _How on earth did this happen?_ Logically, no one had ever mentioned him in a book, and he never intended that to happen. But somehow it did… Something was terribly wrong here, and it such a strange way, the pieces of parchments and the black hole separating them all one by one seemed to fit together. He didn’t know how, but it just did. Maybe he should read the books at some point. Actually, it was quite lucky that Dale gave him a copy of each book for Christmas and brought copies of her own (or at least her friend’s).

Once he was done with them, the Doctor put the paper down, groaned and decided then that he was to find the TARDIS, first thing tomorrow, and then look for the books in his shelf and read them all. Perhaps they were to provide his answers tomorrow.

The Doctor really hoped so.


	21. Bran

“It had three eyes,” Bran began speaking about a dream he had last night. “He told me to come down with him, so I did. We went down to the crypts and my father was there.”

Osha, who carried him, gave out a sigh. “Your father is not there, little lord. Not for many years.”

Osha brought him towards the door of the crypts and that’s where they stopped. For a while they stared and Bran looked at the woman. He could feel her shaking and he could feel her breath become cold. It was certain that Osha was scared of the sight of it.

“You’re afraid,” he pointed out. “Just like Hodor.”

She scoffed nervously. “I’m not scared of some hole in the ground”

Bran took one more look at Osha and said, “You lived beyond the wall. What are you so scared of?” He took one short pause. “I’m a crippled boy and I’m willing to go.”

Osha stared at him for a while; tilting her head and having a smile creep up in her face. It was then when Bran knew that he had convinced her to bring him there.

 

*        *        *

 

They went down to the crypts and Bran showed Osha the statues of his ancestors. One by one, they passed. Bran named each Stark statue they saw on sight, generation by generation, explaining who they were and what happened to them. Eventually, they reached the statue of his grandfather.

“That’s my grandfather, Lord Rickard. He was burnt alive by the Mad King Aerys.”

Then, they reached the statue of his aunt: beautiful and elegant just like father said she was.

“That’s my father’s sister, Lyanna. She was supposed to be married to King Robert but Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped her. Robert started a war to win her back. He killed Rhaegar, but she died anyway.”

Then, they have finally reached the empty space that was right next to his aunt’s.

“That’s where I saw father.”

Osha took one good look and smiled.

“Ah, you see? He’s not here.”

Suddenly, they heard a growl coming of the dark. Both Osha and Bran flinched as they turned to see the black direwolf barking at them. Then, the wolf charged towards them and both of them fell to the ground, shouting. It was as if the animal wanted to attack them, but that was until they heard Rickon call out to him.

“Here, Shaggydog.”

Bran and Osha took one good at him and found themselves feeling shocked.

“Rickon!” Bran exclaimed.

Osha pointed at Shaggydog and yelled, “That beast is supposed to be chained at the kennels!”

“He doesn’t like chains!” insisted Rickon.

Osha breathed in and out as she tried to regain her breath. Bran blinked his eyes, took one good at his brother and his wolf and said, “What are you doing here? Come back up with us!”

He shook his head vigorously. “No, I came to see father!”

Bran groaned at that. This was getting more than ridiculous. “How many times to I have to tell you?! He’s in King’s Landing with Sansa and Arya!”

As Osha stood up whilst holding onto the boy, Rickon insisted again, “He was down there! I saw him!”

Bran was seriously getting annoyed and confused. “Saw him when?”

“Last night when I was sleeping.”

 _Wait, what?_ Bran felt shocked and he could only guess that Osha did too. Bran went down to show the woman where he had seen his father, and his brother claimed to be here just to see Father. Did this mean Rickon had the same dream as him?

Then, Rickon turned himself away from his older brother and called his direwolf, who followed him obediently.

Both of them had no idea what to say to that. It merely brought shiver down their spines.

 

*        *        *

 

They finally got out of the crypts and Bran felt himself lose his breath. What on earth was happening? Why was this happening? How did Rickon get that same dream? What if something bad happened to his father… or even worse, what if he was tortured in some sort of way? Bran hoped it meant nothing.

Osha looked at Bran and spoke, “You both miss him. It’s only natural that he should be in your thoughts and dreams, but that doesn’t mean…”

The woman’s voice died away when they both saw a gloom take over Maester Luwin’s face. They were dreading to think what he was to say to them.

“Bran…” he muttered.

None of them understood what was happening. The only thing Maester Luwin did was hand him a letter and let him read it. Nothing else was said to him after that.

Bran took one good look at the piece of parchment, opened it and what he feared most had come true: his father was dead.

 

*         *        *

 

After hearing the grave news, Bran told Osha to bring him to his own dorm, and there he stayed for the rest of his day. He did not eat or drink. He did not ride is horse and he did not wish to go outside. He didn’t even call for the company of Daeltrix. He left himself in complete isolation and tried his best to hold back his tears. It was hard enough to be strong for Rickon, who also grieved, but Bran did not wish to let out his distress whilst his brother needed comfort as well.

 

Bran really did not comprehend why this happened.

 

Then, there was a knock on the door and Bran said nothing, waiting to hear who it was that came to him at this hour.

“Bran,” he heard Daeltrix call. “It’s me, Daeltrix. I just wanted to see you.”

At this point in time, he really didn’t want to see anyone. The boy gave no approval of coming in, but regardless of that, Daeltrix came inside with a bowl of soup. She came to his bed, placed the bowl aside and asked, “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Bran said nothing. He merely stared at her and avoided talking. He feared that if he said a word, he would start weeping and shouting. Daeltrix gave out a small smile and spoke, “You haven’t eaten supper yet, my lord. I brought you something so you would not starve.”

Bran shook his head and turned his gaze away from the soup. “I don’t want to eat,” he muttered.

“Are you sure?”

Bran nodded.

Daeltrix gave out a sigh and shrugged her shoulder. She stared at him for a while, tilted her head and asked, “Are you alright? You don’t seem yourself today.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted with a light voice.

The boy turned his gaze away from hers and Daeltrix spoke to him again. He hoped she would leave the room clueless. But it seemed that she was to go nowhere, and he was wrong about her knowledge.

“Bran, I’ve heard what happened. I’m so sorry.”

So she has heard. It saddened him to think that another person was giving him condolences, and he hated that. Bran still avoided her stare, gulped thin air and heard his voice almost break. “It doesn’t matter anymore…”

He really didn’t want to look at her. Not today. He was so afraid that if he were to turn his gaze at her he would lose it and never stop. He really didn’t want that to happen, but he had a feeling it would be inevitable. He closed his eyes, making sure that he could shut the world away from him. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He didn’t want to cry. He took deep breaths and swallowed thin air. He dreaded to know what Daeltrix would think when she was seeing him this way. He really wanted her to leave, but she never did.

He suddenly felt the tender touch of her hand on her cheek, her thumb rubbing, and at that, Bran flinched and gasped. He turned to look at her and saw that she was just as sad as he was despite not knowing Lord Eddard Stark. She had been wiping away a tear he didn’t notice, and the thought of his father, brother, mother and two sisters came flooding in his mind. He missed them all. He wanted them to come back, but one of them was dead. If father died, Bran would fear that something horrible would happen to them. He shook his head, trying to throw away that thought, but it was something that would not go away from him. He found it hard to breath and he felt his eyes become blurry from the tears that escaped their prison. This must have been what it was like to grieve greatly.

“Bran?” the girl asked again.

This time, Bran began to whimper in response, blinking his eyes and still trying to avoid the girl’s gaze. Daeltrix gave out a sigh and whispered, “Come here, Bran.”

She then embraced him and tried her best to comfort him. Once he was shrouded in her arms, Bran began to lose himself in his sadness and felt her hand rub his back. He wept. He screamed. He let his tears get away and it was as if the small streams stabbed the girl on the chest and through. He knew Daeltrix felt the pain too. He felt her leaning on his head, her lips kissing the top of his pate as her voice sounded as strained as his.

“It’s alright, just let it out. Just let it out… Beat me up if you have to… Whatever makes you feel better just let it out.”

For a while, the boy had no idea what he was doing. Bran screamed even louder as he hit his face against her chest over and over again. Daeltrix groaned a bit. It must have hurt for her, but she really didn’t care. She only tended to Bran and the boy really felt horrible for both hitting her, once he realized what he was doing, the death of his father and the distress it had brought across the whole of Winterfell.

“They have killed him, Daeltrix! They killed him…” His voice broke completely. “Why did this have to happen…? Why?”

Daeltrix sobbed as well, leaning herself on his soft head even more. Bran wept for the whole while whilst the girl kept holding him tightly and repeatedly whispered those words that would be playing on his mind for the rest of his life.

“My boy… My dear boy… I’m sorry that this has happened to you. I wish I knew why.”

 

*        *        *

 

Bran knew how his father died. He was beheaded at Baelor straight after he confessed his ‘crimes’ and the people cheered and approved of his death. The young boy dreamt of this and could see the image of his father’s head thudding to the ground, and the headless body collapse itself down. He saw a flash of the executioner holding the head of Ned Stark by the hair, and the other red cloaks dragged his lifeless body away from the place as Sansa herself fainted. He really hated imagining what really happened to him. It must have been just as the way he saw it in his dream.

At that, Bran gasped, almost screaming, felt himself sweat and he felt tears stinging his eyes. They hurt so much; Bran could have sworn he was being burnt by fire. He wiped them and blinked his eyes once more. He glanced in the dark from side to side. He felt himself lose his breath. He blinked his eyes, glared at the door and screamed for Hodor to come.

“Hodor! HODOR!”

In an instant, the giant opened the door and came in. “Hodor?” he asked in a bit of concern.

Bran finally caught his breath when he saw Hodor. For a while he was silent and he finally found the strength to speak again.

“Please, bring me to Daeltrix’s room.”

The giant obeyed. “Hodor.”


	22. Daeltrix

She dreamt of playing the piano and singing songs to her relatives at Christmas. She dreamt of dancing ballet and impressing the Doctor and Clara with her own stunts. But that dream only lasted until someone called her out of her sleep.

“Daeltrix… Daeltrix!”

At the call of her nickname, she gave out a groan; stirred herself awake ad turned to see who it was that woke her from her beauty sleep. She blinked her eyes briefly and found herself feeling shocked as soon as she had realized who was there, almost kneeling on the ground and reaching his hand to her. She was a bit shocked to see that Bran came to her teary eyed and miserable in the middle of the night, and Hodor was also waiting there. She gave out a yawn, stretched out her arms a bit and muttered:

“What is it, Bran?”

At first he faltered. Then, he whispered half-sobbingly, “I-I can’t sleep.”

Her nose flared a bit. He had better have a good excuse to wake her like that at dark. “And why is that?”

He sniffed for a brief while. It was as if he was trying to prevent the tears from coming down again, making sure that they don’t sting him. “I-I dreamt of my father’s death and I’m scared.”

She was tired and half asleep at first. But then, Dale blinked her hazel eyes and gazed at him clearly and with all her empathy. Of course, the young wolf just heard the news of Eddard Stark's death, and that would give fairly bad repercussions to him. The boy was in shock, she could see, as well as depressed. That saddened the girl, and she nodded in understanding.

“Hmm… I should have known. Sorry for asking.”

Bran merely dismissed her apology. He only nodded, looked at her a bit sheepishly and asked in slight embarrassment, “I-is it alright if I stay with you instead?”

At that, Dale was surprised at. She didn’t expect anyone asking her for company and that came as a shock to her. But it was only natural that Bran would be scared of the nightmare he was having about his father, and so she understood completely why he asked her of this. Dale grinned tiredly and allowed him. “Of course you can.”

They boy turned to look at Hodor and told him to put him abed. The giant obeyed and Dale took the covers out to let the little boy in. Hodor picked Bran up, placed him in the bed and put the covers for both of them. Once he was done, Hodor was dismissed. When Hodor was gone, Bran dragged himself closer to the girl. He leaned his head on Dale’s shoulder and embraced her as he let tears fall down. Again, Dale was surprised. She first hesitated, but then she wrapped her arms around him. Bran rubbed his head a few times on her shoulder, obviously trying to get himself comfortable. Once he was done, he gave out a sigh, closed his eyes for a brief while and whispered:

“I’m sorry or hitting you like that earlier. You must be angry with me.”

Dale shook her head lightly. “Only because you woke me in the middle of the night. It has nothing to do with your fear or the anger you let out.”

Bran blinked his eyes open, glanced at her and asked, “Are you sure about that?”

Dale smirked a bit. “Yes, I’m sure, little lord. Now go to sleep.”

The girl was about to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t anymore. She felt tears fall on her shoulders and that seemed to bother her. Not because it annoyed her, of course, it was because the boy was still sad, and this made her feel completely devastated.

“I-I can’t… It’s hard to.”

“I know it is,” she agreed. “But you have to somehow.”

He exhaled as Dale could feel tears falling to her shoulders. It really hurt to see him this way. “I miss my mother and father…” he said. “I miss my whole family.”

 _You and me both_ , she thought. She missed seeing her family, but nothing could ever compare to what she felt towards the thought of never seeing the Doctor or Clara, or even Robb Stark. These were three different people, and they were people that made her feel like she belonged to a home. She missed the comforts of the TARDIS, and now she missed supper time with Robb Stark. She missed telling him stories, and she missed the Doctor’s teasing and Clara’s sense of care. But anyway, right now has nothing to do with her; it was all about the Stark boys, especially Bran, who was right beside her right now. She had lost hope that the Doctor and Clara would someday come for her, and Dale had accepted the fact that she may never see them again. The only thing she could do right now was sigh, look at Bran’s brown virtuous eyes and console him. “I miss mine too, actually.” She took a pause as she glanced at him one more time. “Sometimes I would sing myself to sleep, pretending that my family would be right beside me… and sleep is probably the best time for me because that’s the only time I see them. But then I wake up and I realize they’re all gone. I know it’s hard to accept that they’re gone, Bran, but one thing is clear, and this is something I have learnt for myself: they will always be in your heart, and you will never be alone.”

Bran gave out a slight smile. “Well, that’s comforting to know.” He leaned his head a bit more as he took a deep breath. “There are times when I do miss hearing my mother singing me to sleep… I even miss the times when father would spend time with me and the way Sansa cared for me and the way Jon, Theon and Arya would tease me. I now even miss Robb coming into my room.”

Dale smiled in sympathy. “I know. I can always see it in your eyes.”

Bran blinked his eyes, held her even more tightly and burrowed his head towards the right side of her chest. This was making the girl feel slightly awkward. He sobbed a bit, and Dale caressed his head gently.

“I wish mom would sing me a song now…”

Dale found his childishness slightly amusing, and it was the way it should be. “I know how you feel, Bran. I sometimes miss that too.”

Bran gave out a grunt and Dale felt him calm himself even more. For a long time they have stayed quiet after their brief conversation. Anyway, how could they have a long funny conversation if bad news have struck the whole of Winterfell? How could they when Dale knew Bran was worried for his whole family? She can only guess the sorrow he was going through, and she did not want to make it any worse for him, so she stayed quiet.

After a long time of silence, the boy looked at her one more time and asked, “Do you know any songs, Daeltrix?”

At that, the girl hesitated for a moment. Her lips shook a bit as she answered, “Y-yes, I do. “ She then took a short pause as if to think. “But then again, I highly doubt you’d ever heard of these.”

“I don’t care,” he blurted in the dark. Dale could feel his eyes look at her. “I want to hear it.”

And she was still surprised to hear this. No little boy had ever asked her to sing a song to sleep, and the last time she did, she was with her ‘Die Mackay’. Because of that, she really felt awkward about doing this. She felt awkward, but regardless of that, she did it anyway. For a while, she thought about a song she could sing to him, and the first thing that came in mind was a lullaby that Katniss sung to both Primrose and Rue in ‘The Hunger Games’. Then, she began to do so.

 

 _Deep in the meadow, under the willow,_  
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow  
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes  
And when again they open, the sun will rise

 _Here it’s safe, here it’s warm_  
Here the daisies guard you from every harm  
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings  
them true   
Here is the place where I love you

 _Deep in the meadow, hidden far away,_  
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray  
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay  
And when again it’s morning, they’ll wash away

_Here it’s safe, here it’s warm…_

 

It was then when she had realized Bran Stark had fallen asleep in her arms. The poor grieving boy, slumbering now in final peace. His closed eyes looked so serene, so loving… so innocent. She didn’t want him to grow up, for she feared that perhaps she would fall for him somehow, and the sadness that filled him was causing him to. She really didn’t want that for him. She never understood why this little boy had to be the one hearing the bad news, and at that, Dale got upset. She hated seeing him cry, and now she was gladdened to see him sleep. She did not want to wake him, and he was so beautiful asleep. The only thing she wanted to do was leave him to rest, smile and finish off the lullaby for Bran.

 

 _Here the daisies guard you from every harm_  
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings  
them true  
Here is the place where I love you

 

Once she was done, she gave the boy a kiss on his fringed forehead and fell asleep herself.


	23. The Doctor

Something jolted him awake. He had heard a familiar voice deep inside his head, and that bothered him. But it seemed more as if he could hear it in the dorm. He sat up and gasped in shock and fear. The Doctor blinked his eyes as the words he heard played in his mind over and over again.

 

 _Here it’s safe, here it’s warm_  
Here the daisies guard you from every harm  
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings  
them true   
Here is the place where I love you

 

The Doctor glanced from side to side as the song haunted him right now.

 

 _Deep in the meadow, hidden far away,_  
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray  
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay  
And when again it’s morning, they’ll wash away…

 

This, he could not believe. That voice, he could recognize, and no one else sounded like this little girl. It was Daeltrix’s voice.

Yes… it was definitely her voice. The Doctor could not be mistaken. It _was_ hers. But how is it that he could hear her voice as clear as the wind if he wasn’t even here?

 

_How could this be possible?_

 

He was silent for a while, and then, he called her name in a whisper.

“Daeltrix?”

No answer came to him. The Doctor blinked his eyes and called for a second time.

“Daeltrix? Is that you?”

And nothing. No reply, and no longer was there a voice lingering in the room. It died away and the Doctor felt confused. How was it that Daeltrix’s voice resonated across his room if she was not here? This, he could never know, but he knew one thing for certain: he must have been dreaming.

 

 _…Yes, it must have been a dream_.

 

Perhaps he missed her more than he anticipated, the Doctor guessed. And it was true, he did, as well as he missed Clara Oswald.

 

The Doctor gave out a sigh, lied himself down and gave out a sigh. Within a few seconds, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.


	24. Bran

Days have passed since the news of his father’s death and Bran felt much better despite grieving. The company of Lady Daeltrix had helped him go through the pain, and he was so grateful for that. News of Robb becoming King of the North had reached them, and Bran felt nervous, yet excited. His brother was a king and he had every right to be one. _And no one should rule above the Northerners after everything that’s happened_. But still he worried, and the lady was always there to console him. He was so grateful; he literally promised himself that he would, from then on, do anything for her. But despite feeling better, being Lord of Winterfell was no easy task.

Today, he sat at the hall and people lined up to see him. And one of them was a man named Leadranach, who began speaking:

“My Lord may the old gods watch over your brother and the Northern sons.” He took a short pause. “The walls of my holdfast will not stand the winter. The stones were last mortared in the time of King Aerys, and I’m afraid the masons today are not fit to carry their fathers’ hammers. When I was a boy, I remember seeing them put up a new tower at Torrhen’s square in a summer. Men worked back then.”

Bran was so bored; he began to scratch the table with a small stone. If only he could spend time with Daeltrix instead…

“Today my holdfast looks like it had been built by drunk children,” he complained. “At night, you can hear the wind howling through the gaps. Gods forbid, it rains. Why, I might as well sleep under a waterfall!”

 “Maintenance of the holdfast generally falls to the lord of that holdfast,” pointed out the old man.

“Generally, yes,” he agreed. “But I’ve sent all the young men to fight Robb Stark’s war.”

“King Robb,” Bran corrected. “And it is not his war. He didn’t choose it.”

“Maybe not, my lord,” he said. “But  he called on his banners and took all he men.”

This was making Bran angry. Did the man really have no clue as to why Robb called on them? _He must be daft!_ “Joffrey killed my father,” he went on to explain, “your liege lord. Do you remember your vows, _Ser_?”

“Well, of course I do!”

As Bran was about to say something further, Maester Luwin stopped him and spoke in his stead. “We can spare four masons in a week, my lord.”

Bran looked at his Maester flaringly. He hated it when someone interrupted him in a conversation.

“Will that be enough for your walls?”

Gratefully: “I-I believe it will.”

Then, the man left, giddy and relieved at the same time. Bran turned his gaze towards his Maester again, who was handling scrolls. Then, the old man looked at him back, gave out a grunt and remarked, “Well, we didn’t want him here all day, did we?”

Bran studied the Maester’s gaze for a brief while. He then gave out a groan and eyed the people of Winterfell. “I didn’t like the way he talked about Robb.”

“Nor did I,” agreed Maester Luwin. “But listening to people you rather not listen to is one of your responsibilities as Lord of Winterfell.”

Bran gave out another sigh. It was true that it was his duty despite not liking it, but really, he could not stand people who talked badly of his brother. And the day became more tedious as Maester Luwin called on the next person they were to tend.

 

*        *        *

 

In the night, he dreamt of galloping through the woods, stepping on crunching leaves and panting in exhaustion. He could hear himself whimper as he went through the godswood, and then, he found himself staring at the stream, once he reached it, only to see that he was not himself… but Summer, his direwolf.

 

*        *       *

 

Bran woke up, blinking his eyes in confusion. He felt himself tired and didn’t want to get out of bed, but he knew that it wouldn’t be good for him if he stayed there much longer. He got himself ready for the day, ate some breakfast and got himself out of the castle.

Bran had been saddled up to the giant, who carried him through the woods, and Osha followed them both. She kept grabbing some sort of leaves from the ground and stared at them. Bran raised an eyebrow at that.

“Boil this for an hour and drink this for tea,” she suggested as she showed the boy the leaves and rubbed the dirt out of them. “It will make the pain go away.”

Bran was slightly annoyed. “I don’t have any pain!”

Bran and Hodor were now ahead of her. She was merely staring at her leaves. Once she realized this, though, she turned herself around and followed them again.

“Lucky for you,” she muttered under her breath.

They all kept walking as Bran directed Hodor where to go. They turned to one side and then another. Bran kept looking ahead as the giant walked and was about to reach the weirdwood. As they were almost to reach, Osha tilted her head a bit and remarked:

“You’ve been having those dreams again…”

“I don’t dream,” he lied.

She chuckled. “Everyone dreams, little lord. You should know that.”

“Well, I don’t,” he murmured.

Then, Bran looked up at the sky. There, was a comet falling, as red as blood, shining brightly and blinking itself. It had been flying for a very long time, and sometimes Bran wondered where it would go or what it meant. He heard people say things, but one could never be sure.

“I heard some men talking about the comet. They say it’s an omen, that Robb will win a great victory in the south.”

Once they reached the stream, Hodor lowered himself and Osha went to undo the saddle. “Did they?” she asked. At that, Bran nodded. “I heard some fools saying it’s Lannister red, meaning that the Lannister’s will rule all the Seven Kingdoms before long.”

Bran really hoped it did not mean that. He really hoped not.

“Then, I heard a stable saying that it’s the color of blood, to mark the death of your father.” Once she finished unstrapping him, she picked Bran up, lowered him to the ground and stroked his head. Then, Bran began to crawl towards the water. “Such an idiot… Stars don’t fall for dead men.” She took a short pause. “Red comet means one thing, boy… Dragons.”

 _Dragons? How could it mean that?_ , Bran wondered. Unless she meant the Targaryen’s… but weren’t they dead too?

 

_…No, I think she meant real dragons._

 

The boy finally reached the stream and looked at his own reflection right there. He seemed confused at the words of Osha. It couldn’t be possible that it would mean that. Dragon’s had been extinct for many years, and no one had seen one since then. The woman must know that. As he stared at himself, Bran blinked his brown eyes, made a ripple with his fingers and said, “The dragons have been dead. They have been for centuries.”

Osha tilted her head. “Are you sure about that, boy?”

Bran turned his head slightly, as if to face her. “Yes, I’m sure.” He blinked his eyes again. “Had they been alive, we’d all know about it.”

“Hodor,” they both heard the giant utter elsewhere. However, they ignored him.

Osha merely stared at him for a while, studying the young boy’s dazed gaze. Bran hated it when she did that. It was annoying and it made him feel slightly frustrated, but mostly it made him wonder what the woman would be thinking right now. He dreaded to think what it would be. Thankfully, Osha gave out a grunt and glanced away from him. Bran could not turn his gaze back at his reflection in peace. He rippled the water even more and thought about the dream he had last night. He was running through the godswood and he stared at himself, seeing the reflection of his direwolf, but right now, he could only see himself. Bran found it hard to understand and wondered how such a dream could feel so real to him. He dreaded to think as he glanced his eyes and gave out a sigh.

Eyeing her leaves for a long time, Osha muttered, “And how long will you be staring at the stream for, little lord?”

Bran turned to look at her again. “Not for long.” He gave out another sigh. “I think I’m ready to go back.”

“Hmm…” Osha smiled, picked him up and told Hodor to come. The giant did so. “So, what will you do next?”

“Go back to Winterfell,” he answered, “and see how Daeltrix is going.”

Osha gave out a chuckle. “You really do like this girl, do you?”

As he was being strapped, Bran eyed her and raised an eyebrow again. “What do you mean?”

“You like her,” she merely explained. “Every time you talk about her, you sound light-hearted, and not to mention that your cheeks always redden.”

At that, Bran blinked his eyes, touched his cheeks meekly and muttered, “No, they don’t…”

“Sure they do, you like her. Or perhaps it’s more than that… And I guess that would be a good thing.”

Once Bran was saddled up, Hodor got up and Bran held onto him tightly. He did have to admit that Osha was right in some ways. He really did like Daeltrix, but it wasn’t as if he would ever fall for her. Not in a million years. Or perhaps he was wrong. But this really wasn’t something he should worry about anyway. He was just a young boy, and he wanted to be as happy as he possibly can. But he really did hope that he didn’t leave her completely alone.

“Well… she is my friend after all,” he said to Osha and grinned. “I hope I didn’t leave her bored, though.”


	25. Daeltrix

Days have passed and Dale felt like home at Winterfell. She may have lost hope in seeing the Doctor and Clara again, but living in this place with the Stark’s made her feel much happier and much more comfortable with who she was. For a while she found it hard to wrestle with, but once she stayed her for an awful long time, she shew there would be no turning back to the TARDIS. Everyone was so nice to her, as well as accepting, and that was something Dale barely experienced in her life. They were even accepting about the fact that she loved the thought of sword’s play (but that would have probably been because they all knew Arya to be the sort of girl who preferred swords and arrows over singing and needlework).

Right now, she was swinging a wooden sword, fighting five men in the one go. She practiced her fencing skills and Maester Luwin watched her with a smile on his face. With a twirl and a beating, she had defeated the five men and the old man applauded her as soon as she was finished. Dale turned to look at him and Maester Luwin stood up, walked towards her and patted her back.

“Well done, my lady.”        

Dale grinned. “Thank you, Maester.”

He grunted. “I did not know you were so good at sword’s play.”

She shrugged. “Well, I used to practice with my father,” she lied. Actually, she used to do fencing classes, and that was until she met the Doctor and Clara. But then again, that was another story.

The Maester gave out a chuckle as he glanced at her fondly. “You remind me of young Arya, Bran’s sister. She really was into things that were usually not for a lady’s liking.” He took a pause as he seemed to remember things. “And I do recall hearing about her getting in trouble for leaving her needlework and sneaking to Bran’s bow and arrow lesson.”

Dale chuckled at that. _Oh yes, and Arya pissed Bran off by proving to him that she was better than him_. “That must have been funny.”

“Hmm, well it _was_ quite amusing.” The man smiled and patted her back once more. “Now, why don’t you practice again?”

The girl couldn’t agree more. “Of course, why not?” She took a pause. “I should practice with more men. How many should I do?”

“Six, perhaps?” he suggested.

The girl grinned in agreement and told one of them to arrange six of them to be her opponents. The Maester went back to sit himself down and in no time did Dale begin to warm up with a few swings before anyone came at her. One man ran towards her and Dale felt her feet jolting into a dance. She jumped backwards and she spun herself around, holding her wooden sword steadily and straight, and hit her opponent on the stomach. Then, two more men came at her, about to slash-pretend her, and as the swords were about to approach her face, Dale managed to stop both of them, let go of them and punched one while she kicked the other. She twirled again and hit one at the chest and then the fifth; she managed to knock the man at the side of his head. As the men fell and tried to recover themselves in the one moment, Dale glanced at them, taking deep breaths and regaining her energy again. Supposedly she was to fight six of them, but the last one didn’t come yet. Then, a familiar and sweet voice called to her:

“Daeltrix!”

At the sound of her supposed name, she turned herself around and glanced. It was Bran, being held by Hodor and accompanied by Osha. They must have gotten back from the godswood. Dale gave out a wide smile, chuckled and curtsied.

“Lord Bran!” she greeted.

Suddenly, she got herself hit on the head by another man. It must have been her last opponent, by the sound of that, and now she regretted letting her guard down. She groaned and yelped. Bran gasped, Hodor muttered his own name and Osha seemed a bit surprised. The girl rubbed the back of her head as she heard the boy utter to the simple-minded giant. Dale kept linking her eyes as her blurry sight saw him being lowered by the giant and put down to his knees. Bran panted, looking at her with worry as he stroked her head and questioned:

“My lady, are you alright?!”

“Ugh…” she complained under her breath. “I’m fine…”

“Are you sure?”

She laughed a bit. “Relax, little one. It’s just a light blow to the head. Just be thankful that I didn’t fall unconscious.”

They all joined the mirth and so did Bran. Whilst they all giggled and jested, Dale held onto Bran and made him stand up – or at least it seemed to look like that despite his legs dangling.

The boy gave out a sigh of relief. “For a moment I thought you were very hurt.”

She shrugged that away whilst her grips struggled a bit. They were uncomfortably close and that made the girl slightly red. “Well, it wasn’t anything bad, so you don’t have to worry at all, my lord.”

Bran gave out a grunt, smiled shyly at her and looked down at his feet, which were merely hanging from his useless legs. As Dale glanced around, she noticed the men leaving, as well as Osha (who had to go back to the kitchens), and the girl raised her eyebrows at that.

“Hmm… I wonder why they’re all leaving.”

Bran noticed this too. “I don’t know. I guess it just suited them.”

 _Good answer_ , she thought to herself. She gave out a small giggle and asked, “Would you like Hodor to pick you up again?”

He nodded. “Yes, seeing as you’re struggling.”

Dale called the man and she turned to look at the boy again. “Well, not meaning any offence, my lord, but you are getting a bit heavier.”

Hodor came and picked Bran up as he laughed. “What, are you calling me fat?”

She tilted her head. “Not that. I’m just saying that you’re getting bigger. You may be crippled, Bran, but your body still grows. It can’t help it.”

At least one thing was for sure: he seemed amused instead of offended. “Well, I guess that’s true.” He took a short pause as he stared at her. “Anyway, you should go to your dorm, my lady.”

She tilted her head again and glanced at him in question. “What, are you sending me to bed already?” At that, Bran laughed. “It’s too early for that, you know.”

He giggled again. “I’m not sending you to bed, my lady. I’m just saying that you should go there.”

 _Hmmm… I do wonder…_ “Now why is that?”

“Because there’s a surprise waiting for you before we eat.”

 

*       *       *

 

At that, Dale was so surprised; she could not help but gasp. As soon as she heard that, she headed towards her room, entering doors and climbing up stairs. She really could not wait to see what it would be, and Dale thought it too kind of him.

Once she reached her room, she opened the door, glanced from side to side and finally her gaze landed on her bed. There, a nice gift awaited her, and Dale could not help but smile when she saw what it was. On the bed, there was a heavy cloak with white soft fur. The thick cloth was blue-grey and its tip had silver stitches of the Stark sigil all over it. It even had a wolf’s head as its clasp. Dale could not help but be awed at the beauty of the cloak, and she was so surprised at the fact that it was a gift from Bran Stark. She slowly walked towards her bed, grabbed hold of her new present and glanced at it for a while longer. She gasped, complimented and blinked her hazel eyes. It felt as soft as it looked, and it seemed something she would be comfortable wearing.

One hour before the meal, she decided to try it, and she found that it suited her well and perfectly, and one thing she could not help but admit to herself: now she really did look like a real lady, and it seemed to give her some surprising pride.

 


	26. Daenerys

The sun rays hit right through the hall and Daenerys sat at the throne at the top of the pyramid, and at her side stood Ser Barristan Selmy, Lady Clara Oswald, Missandei and Grey Worm. They were all gathered there so to see Jorah Mormont, the traitor. When she found out about the man’s pardon, the Khaleesi was not happy about this and felt it right to question him about it. She sat there solemnly as the man with light hair came inside, walking slowly towards them all. Then, he stood before the stairs for a brief while. Daenerys said nothing, and she could see that the man feared for the words she was to say to him today. _Well, he should be afraid_ , the woman thought to herself. Then, Jorah took a few more steps, going upwards, and they all kept staring at him. Finally, he stopped and stood there, uncomfortably placing his hands behind his back as he eyed the Mother of Dragons.

 “Why did the Usurper pardon?” she asked after a long time of silence.

Daenerys could see the man hesitate. He gulped thin air and saw his lips shake. He blinked his eyes and said, “If we could speak alone…”

“No,” the woman disagreed. “Speak to me here. Explain it to me.”

The man stood silent for a while more. Then, he began to speak again. “Who do you think sent this to Meereen? Who profits? This is the work of Tywin Lannister. He wants to divide us.” He took a short pause as the Khaleesi stared at him solemnly. “If we’re fighting each other, we’re not fighting him.”

“The pardon was signed the year we met,” she said with a tone of slight annoyance. Did the man really think her stupid?

At that, Jorah fell silent.

“Why were you pardoned?” she questioned again. “Unless you’re telling me that this document was forged.”

Jorah hesitated once more. The fear grew and became even more evident as the man glanced at his toes first and then back at her. It was as if he had to force himself to tell the truth. “I-It is not forged, Khaleesi.”

“Why then?”

He was silent once more, and then he spoke again. “I sent letters to Varys; the spy master of King’s Landing.”

“What was the content of these letters?” she seemed more eager to know.

Reluctantly: “Information.”

“What information?”

“About when you and Viserys arrived at Pentos, his plan to marry you to Drogo, when you’re married, when your brother died…”

 _So she told him everything?_ Daenerys didn’t seem happy. “Did you tell them I was carrying Drogo’s child?”

Now, he really didn’t want to answer anymore. “Khaleesi…”

“Don’t call me that!” she exclaimed. “Did you tell them I was carrying Drogo’s child?!”

Jorah faltered for a while longer. Eye to eye they stared, and Daenerys gazed at him expectantly. Anytime soon, she would want to hear an answer from him, and finally he spoke the truth through one word: he said yes.

At that, Daenerys stood up from her throne, distraught and angered by this. She should never have trusted him in the first place, and she should have known that those bad events in Vaes Dothrak took place because of him. “That _wine_ merchant tried to poison me because of _your_ information.”

“I stopped you from drinking his wine!” he insisted.

“Because you knew it was poisoned!” she added with gritted teeth.

He sighed and looked down. “I suspected so…”

“You betrayed me form the first!” she yelled.

Jorah fell down to his knees, looked down at the ground and began to beg forgiveness. She would not allow this to get the better of her.

“Forgive me, I never meant…” his voice died as he looked up at her again. “Please Khaleesi; I have protected you, fought for you, killed for you.”

“You sold my secrets to the man that has killed my father behind my back and you’re asking me to forgive you?!” she was at the brink of screaming.

The man looked sadly at her, sulking eyes shone almost to tears as he muttered, “I have loved you…”

However, Daenerys merely glared at him. “Love…how can you say this to me?” she questioned. “Any man would have you executed for your treachery, but you, I do not want you in my city, dead or alive.” She took a fuming breath as she went down the stairs and stood before him. “Go back to King’s Landing to your masters, and collect your pardon if you can.”

Jorah stood up, tried to reach his hand towards her, but Daenerys moved her hand away from him. She hated him for this, and she did not want him to touch her again.

“Daenerys, please…”

“Don’t ever presume to touch me or speak my name again,” she commanded. “You have until dusk to collect your things and leave the city. If you’re found in rain past break of day, I will have your head thrown into Slaver’s Bay.”

Jorah shook his head, looking distressfully at her and begging her not to shun him away. This didn’t move her at all.

“Go…” she said almost in a whisper. “Now…”

He looked at her one more time. He was about to open his mouth one more time, but then he thought it best not to. Daenerys saw this. He lowered his head, giving out a sigh. He turned himself away and went down the stairs, headed towards the door and left the hall. As she watched him, Daenerys’s eyes were almost filled with tears, and at the gulp of thin air she felt anguish at the thought of his treachery.

 

*      *      *

 

The even have fallen across Meereen and tonight she had denied Daario’s request of bedding her. Instead, Daenerys looked out the balcony and thought about everything that’s happened. She still couldn’t believe that Jorah betrayed her, and that made her more than upset. In fact, she was devastated. How could he have done this to her? And why did he do this?

But then, another thought came to mind. Despite all this, he did help her look for her dragons when she had lost them in Qarth, he gave her hope when she had lost it, and like he said, he fought for her and he protected her. For that she was grateful for him, yet now it made her confused. Should she have forgiven him? Should she had enquired him about it and question whether his loyalties were still with her? No, she did everything correctly, and she stood by everything she did today. He lied to her and he got what he deserved. She did not need to show the man mercy, after all.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Daenerys allowed entrance. Then, came in Clara, who seemed concerned and Daenerys turned to face her. The woman was so beautiful even when showing worry.

“My lady,” she greeted. “I came to see you. I got worried.”

Daenerys smiled at that. She found it quite adorable that the woman of Oswald wanted to see her. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” she asked as she approached her more.

She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. I merely have things in mind, that’s all.”

She then turned her gaze back at the outside and breathed in the air. It saddened her to think that one of her most loyal friends had deceived her and left her to the only choice she had, and that was to banish him from Meereen. It wasn’t something she wanted to do, but it was something that had to be done, for both safety and to show diligence. She did not want any more of such things to happen again.

Her thoughts had been with Jorah, but then the voice of the beautiful woman disrupted her mind.

“It must have been hard,” she heard Clara say.

Daenerys turned her gaze back at her. “Sorry?”

Meekly, she repeated, “I-it must have been hard… you know, exiling your friend.”

 _Friend_ , she spat in her mind. _Jorah was no friend of mine_. She hesitated for a bit. “It had to be done. After all, it is for the sake of my reign.”

Clara tilted her head, still unsure. “Are you sure about that?”

Daenerys found herself feeling annoyed. “Why do you question this? What other alternative could there be?”

She shrugged. “Forgiving him, perhaps?” She took a pause as Daenerys eyed her in slight anger. “Daenerys, I may not know you or him that well, but I can see it in his eyes that he regretted siding with the Usurper.”

She scoffed. “I hardly think so. Jorah sided with Robert Baratheon and I do not care about him. There is nothing more to be said!”

Clara didn’t look angered nor sad. Her gaze was unreadable, and Daenerys wasn’t liking this. The Mother of Dragons did wonder what lingered inside that woman’s mind. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I think you’re lying,” said Clara. Daenerys could tell that the woman thought it too early to say these things, but nevertheless she spoke them. “I could see it pained you to do that. If doing this hurt you so much you could have just forgiven him and ended the matter with friendship, but instead you chose to exile him.” She took a short pause. “Don’t you think it’s a bit harsh?”

Now, Daenerys was fuming, feeling annoyed and frustrated at the words her guest had said. _She doesn’t even know who Jorah is and she shouldn’t even be judging her for this_. “You don’t get a say in these things, Clara Oswald!” she exclaimed. “You do not know what it is like to be betrayed and have no idea about being queen, so I suggest you leave this room now or I swear I will make you join Jorah! Do you understand?”

Clara stood there and looked at her with glassy eyes. It was as if she were about to cry, but at the same time no. “Yes, my lady,” she muttered.

She straightened herself up, cleared her throat and left the dorm with marching feet. Daenerys gave out a groan, turned to the balcony and her senses came back to her. The fire had been put out and the fresh air took over her. As she glanced around, her mind went back to the brief moments that passed and realized who she was talking to. She had yelled at Clara with disrespect and in no time, Daenerys came to regret that. She should not have talked to her in that manner.

 

 


	27. Daeltrix

Dale had arrived at the dining hall, and there Bran waited for her with that innocent grin of his. She hated to admit it, but she found that delightful to see.

“My lady,” he greeted.

“Bran,” she greeted back. She blinked her eyes, stared at him for a moment as she sat down and asked, “What’s with the formalities?”

The boy blinked his eyes, looked up and down at her and said, “Well, you are dressed like a Lady of Winterfell.”

 _Oh right, it must be because I have changed my clothes_ , she mused in her mind. Yes, she did wear a gown that had been similar to Sansa’s Winterfell dress, but this was far more beautiful than her knotted-collared gown. Her neckline was instead made out of thick braided fabric and the inner collar that came out was arching around her, bringing out the tone of her skin and her round face. The colour of the gown had tones of grey and green and her sleeves were tight at her wrist and loose at her arms. As well with her braided hair, Dale must have thought that was why the boy said those words to her. She glanced at herself, grinned and thanked him for the compliment. That was something very nice, coming out of a young boy’s mouth, in fact, no one’s ever said that to her (but that’s because she’s never really dressed like one from Winterfell until now).

Once they both turned their gazes away, they both saw the warm food that was before them. It was a warm stew of mutton, and she could only guess it was because winter was actually coming, and the air was becoming cold. She couldn’t blame the cooks for making this; at least they were getting well fed anyway.

Dale began to get her portion, and Bran did the same. The sauce was thick and the meat was falling apart. By the looks of it, the girl could only guess what it would taste like: delicious, warm and tender.

Once she finished getting her portion, she was about to dig in, but that was until she noticed the boy glancing at her again. Now this was starting to be a bit of an annoying habit, but still it amused her.

“What?” she chuckled. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just that you look very happy.”

“Of course I am. I go to my room and I get a very nice surprise, just like you told me.”

The boy smiled even more when she said that. “Did you like it?” he asked excitedly. “Rickon and I chose it for you.”

 _Aww… how adorable…_ Dale’s returning grin widened. “I loved it! It was beautiful!” she replied. “But it must have been expensive to afford it.”

He shrugged. “Well, anything to make you happy.”

She tilted her head. “You really didn’t have to get me a fur cloak, Bran. Your kindness is already enough for me, and you had made me joyous by becoming my friend and Rickon’s opened up to me more. I couldn’t ask for anything else.”

Then, Bran reached out for her hand and took it. It surprised the girl. “Well, you’re my friend.” He took a short pause as he stared at her. “You’ve been there for both Rickon and I when we were grieving, and we both thank you for that.”

Dale held his hand as well and gave out a grunt. “You’re welcome.”

“And it’s not just that,” he added. “Winter is coming and I don’t want you to freeze.”

Dale was laughing deep inside the mind. Shen never remembered him ever saying those words in the book, let alone the series. But now, he’s said them and Dale found it funny. She only smiled though, she didn’t really laugh. She was just thinking in her mind that she finally heard him say the Stark words.

For a while they stared at each other and smiled. There seemed to be a certain spark inside the boy’s brown eyes, and Dale wondered what it would be. She could only guess, but she hoped this to be a mere valued friendship, nothing more. Who knew what sort of thing would happen if a fictional character fell for her.

Well, she didn’t have much time to think about that, seeing as she let go of his hand, looked at him for a while longer and asked, “Speaking of Rickon, is he coming to dine with us?”

Bran nodded. “Yes, he should be. I think he’ll be coming any moment now.”

“Alright,” she said in affirmation.

He gave out a sigh. “In the meantime I think we should eat.”

“Hmmm, agreed,” she said and then chuckled. “I’m quite hungry after all.”


	28. The Doctor

At the streets of King’s Landing, the Doctor and Bronn stood outside, guarding a litter. In there, was Tyrion Lannister speaking to his own cousin, Lancel Lannister, who was committing some incest with Cersei Lannister. The Time Lord found it quite disgusting to even think about that, and needless to say, his thoughts drifted away from right now.

So, what was he doing again? Oh yes, pretending to be a look out whilst Lannister spoke to his cousin. And it was quite funny he was doing that, because no one was supposed to hear the conversation they were both having, but seeing as it was cloth, and not concrete, the Doctor could hear everything (and he also had good ears). But of course, the imp and the idiot had nothing to worry about, for the Doctor did not understand what they were going on about.

“It’s Wildfire,” he heard the dumb boy say.

“Wildfire?” asked the imp. A silence took him for a brief moment. “You wouldn’t lie to me, now would you, cousin?”

Lancel sounded hesitant. “No?”

The Doctor could hear a piece of paper being unfolded. “It’s a lie right there,” the dwarf said dryly.

“It’s not a lie!” insisted the boy. “Why would I lie?!”

“Just because you’re in the mood to piss me off, and you hardly even like me…” He once again heard the fiddling of parchment. “So tell me, if these vile allegations against my brother and sister are true, do you think it would make my brother more likely to kill you or less?” He then added, “When I tell him you’ve been _fucking_ her, I mean.”

“It’s not a lie!” exclaimed Lancel.

“The smart money’s on most likely,” said Tyrion as he ignored the boy.

“She’s making wildfire!” he insisted.

Still ignoring him: “But perhaps having his unnatural urges will make him give some sympathy for you.”

“The Alchemist’s Guild has been commissioned!” he almost yelled.

And still ignoring him: “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

“They have thousands of pots already stored in their vaults! They are planning to launch it from the city walls into Stannis’s ships and armies! Please!” he begged.

There was a silent moment between them, and it seemed as though that got the dwarf’s attention. “When did she tell you this?” he asked sensibly.

“I heard her talking to the pyromancer,” he answered. “And the other night, after I left her, she went on to meet him. I swear to you!”

“Swear to me on what?”

The boy was quiet. It seemed as though he was thinking ‘ _what else could I swear it on?_ ’ “O-on my life!” he exclaimed.

He scoffed. “But I don’t care about your life.”

The Doctor seriously wanted to laugh at that. It was one of the best comebacks he had ever heard, and it was so hilarious he could not help but feel himself pee. But supposedly, he could not hear this, so he kept his mouth shut and glanced around the street.

Then, the boy began to recite: “In the light of the seven, by all that is holy and right, I, Lancel Lannister, do solemnly vow…”

 _Pfft… pathetic!_ , the Doctor thought.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough!” he uttered. “Even torturing you is boring. Just get out!”

Then, out of the litter Lancel fell to the ground and Tyrion popped his head out.

“Oh, and Lancel, tell my friend Bronn to please kill you if anything should happen to me,” he added.

Then, the poor tortured Lannister looked up at Bronn feebly, blinked his green eyes and reiterated those words: “P-please kill me if anything happens to Lord Tyrion.” Then, he stood up and ran.

As both the Time Lord and Bronn watched him sprint away, the sellsword smirked and muttered, “It will be my pleasure.”

Then, Tyrion’s gaze turned to the Doctor and said, “Oh, and Doctor, thank you for being a look out with Bronn.”

“You’re welcome,” the Doctor returned and glanced around first, and then turned his eyes back at the Hand. “Anyway, I should get going. I need to find my blue box and find out how I got here.”

Tyrion nodded in agreement. “Alright then, Bronn and I will be walking around the citadel. Do you know your way around King’s Landing?”

The Doctor affirmed to that. “I walked around the whole city yesterday. I don’t see how I could get lost a second time.”

“Hmm, well, meet me and Bronn at the Alchemist’s Guild at midday.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

 

*       *       *

 

The Doctor turned corners and passed through buildings and people. How was he to find his beloved TARDIS in a wide place like King’s Landing? Yes, he have walked around and around the streets, but still he could not find his TARDIS. He went everywhere yesterday, and it was nowhere in sight! Unless… Unless it was in the one place he never thought to look at, and a place that surrounded one side of this citadel: right next to the sea.

The Doctor made his way out, to the rocks and the coast, and there he found his beloved blue box. _At last!_ , the Doctor thought. _I found you!_

The Time Lord whimpered in relief, ran towards it and opened its doors. He went inside and realized that it was all a mess. At that, he groaned and whimpered again. The black hole was to blame for this, and the Doctor really didn’t have much time to put things in order. The only thing he could do was go to his shelf, grab his copies of all the books from ‘A Song of Fire and Ice’ and read them. It was quite lucky Daeltrix thought about giving him that as a present, for this may be the difference of life and death, and finding his two friends before anything else happened.

 

*       *       *

 

For a while, the Doctor sat there reading, and finally he had finished reading the book ‘The Winds of Winter’. It had surprised him that it took him a shorter time to read every single one of them, and as he gazed up, he felt himself shocked and mesmerized. He had to admit, George R. R. Martin’s work was brilliant, but what he didn’t like was ending up in it too. From his robes, he grabbed the pages he found at the streets and had a look at them. He could not understand how printed words have managed to change, and it was as if some sort of infringement was occurring here at hand. He had to think fast. What caused all of this? How did this happen? And why did they have to end up in the world of ‘Game of Thrones’?

The Doctor gave out a groan. How could he ever figure out what happened if there was nothing that could show him. Or perhaps there was and he as not looking. Well, he could never know, and it didn’t hurt to do that. The Doctor glanced around the TARDIS and he did not notice until now that the copies Daeltrix borrowed were on the ground. _Of course_ , he thought to himself. S _he was lying down on the ground whilst we were travelling. She had read them and then she fell asleep. How could I forget?_

The Doctor chuckled a bit, grabbed Daeltrix’s copy of the second book and flicked through the pages. He then turned to a page and realized that some of them were missing. The Time Lord blinked his eyes and thought it odd. He had a closer look at the cuts and glanced back at the paper he held. They were both matching and the Doctor then remembered something: the chapter he was featured in, was meant to be a Sansa chapter, not a Tyrion chapter. As soon as he realized that, the Doctor turned to his own copies and opened up that particular chapter, glanced back and forth at the torn paper and Sansa’s chapter. How on earth did this happen and would there be any other torn spots like this one? And why is this happening?

Then, he went to look at the other books quickly and found something intriguing. ‘A Game of Thrones’ and ‘A Dance with Dragons’ had torn pages as well. In the first book, there was a Bran chapter missing, and in the fifth one, there was no sign of that particular Daenerys excerpt. _How odd…_

Only the two parts of ‘A Storm of Swords’, ‘A Feast of Crows’ and ‘The Winds of Winter’ had been left unharmed and complete.  Now, the Doctor knew that the pages came out of Daeltrix’s books, and although he had no clue as to how and why this happened, one thing as for certain: The three of them were all stuck in different places of George R. R. Martin’s creation, and he could only guess who was in which chapter. For their own sake, he hoped that they would not change anything drastically.

Regardless of what he found out, he knew he had to investigate further and find a way to rescue both Clara and Daeltrix out of the fictional world as well as himself, before it was too late to escape.


	29. Tyrion

The hubbub of people selling and speaking surrounded both Tyrion and the sellsword as they both looked around and spoke to each other and walked.

“Stannis has more infantry, more ships and more horses,” Tyrion said. “What do we have?”

Bronn shrugged. “Well, there’s that mind of yours you keep on going about.”

“Well, I’ve never actually killed anyone with it.”

Bronn scoffed. “Good thing, I’d be out of a job. What about your father?”

“He hasn’t sent a raven I weeks,” he noted dryly. “He’s very busy. Being repeatedly humiliated by Robb Stark is time consuming.”

Bronn agreed to that.

“We won’t be able to hold the city against Stannis, not the way Joffrey is planning on holding it.”

And then, they heard a man yell from the distance: “CORRUPTION!”

People cheered. “YEAH!”

“Yes, a rotten king!” he continued.

And as the preaching man spoke, Tyrion went on to converse with the sellsword again. “It’s hard to argue with the assessment.”

Bronn gave out a grunt. “Not after what he did to your birthday present.”

The man ranted on as Tyrion gave out a sigh. “The King is a lost cause. It’s the rest of us I’m worried about.”

And then, they paused as the man kept yelling. “A PRANCING KING DANCING DOWN HIS BLOODSTAINED HALLS TO THE TUNE OF A TWISTED DEMON MONKEY!”

People laughed and cheered and Tyrion briefly joined the mirth.

“You have to admire his imagination, though. It’s hilarious.”

Bronn hoisted an eyebrow. “He’s talking about you.”

As soon as the dwarf realized that, he looked with a distraught face at the sellsword. “What? Demon monkey?”

He grunted again. “People think you’re pulling the King’s strings. They blame you for the city’s ills.”

“What? Blame me? I’m trying to save them!”

Bronn guffawed at that. “You don’t need to convince me.”

Then, both men walked away as the man kept speaking and the people kept agreeing with all his words like goats. Tyrion shook his head in disbelief and muttered under his breath: “Demon monkey?” Then, he gave out a groan.

 

*      *      *

 

They have eventually reached the Alchemist’s Guild, and as he said, the Doctor met the imp and the sellsword right there at noon. Finally! Something to make Tyrion feel better.

“Ah! Doctor! You arrived.”

“Of course I did,” he affirmed. “You told me to meet me here.”

Bronn laughed. “Well, something to make him feel better. He had just been insulted behind his back by a bunch of people.”

The Doctor squinted at that. “Why? What happened?”

Tyrion groaned again. “Just don’t worry about it and move on.”

One by one, the three men entered inside the building and met with the alchemist, who greeted them politely and asked if he could help them. Tyrion smiled and said:

“Yes, you can. I have heard you’ve been making some wildfire for my sister, the Queen Regent. Could I have a look at a sample?”

“Yes, yes, my lord,” he kept nodding. “You can.”

Then, the alchemist went to a shelf, got a pot carefully and handed it to Tyrion. The dwarf turned it from side to side and blinked his green eyes at it. For some reason, it fascinated him.

“Take care, my lord,” warned the alchemist. “It can be quite dangerous.”

Tyrion gave out a grunt. “I remember reading an old sailor’s proverb saying: ‘Piss on wildfire and your cock burns off’.”

The man seemed surprised. “Well, I have not conducted such an experiment! It could very well be true!” He took a short pause. Tyrion wasn’t telling him to ever do that literally, but really, his reaction was funny. “The substance burns so hot, it melts wood, stone, and even steel, and, of course, flesh. Yes, yes, the substance burns so hot it burns flesh like tallow.” As Tyrion gave back the substance, the man added, “After the dragons died wildfire was the key to Targaryen power.”

The Doctor grinned a bit. “I would have asked for some if I could, but then again, I already heard what you said about the substance burning through everything.”

Tyrion laughed. “I don’t think it would be recommended, Doctor. It would have melted your whole spaceship if it could.”

The alchemist raised an eyebrow. “What is a ‘spaceship’?”

“Oh, that’s nothing to worry about,” assured Tyrion. Then, he turned to the sellsword. “Bronn, what do you think?”

In response, Bronn scoffed. It seemed like he was not convinced about wildfire, and the dwarf wondered why. But regardless of that, he turned to look at the alchemist again and said, “My companion over here takes issue.”

“If I could tell you how many crazy old men I’ve seen pushing carts around army camps making grand claims about jars full of pig shit,” Bronn added and then turned to the old man. “No offence meant”

“Our order does not deal with pig shit!” he objected. “The substance is fire given form, and we have been perfecting it ever since the days of Maegor!”

He still scoffed. “To do what?”

“The jars are placed in catapults and flung at the enemy!” he merely answered.

“Hmm, it must really hurt for a man, then,” the Doctor muttered.

“And how much do you have?” asked Tyrion at last.

The man indicated the three of them to follow him and they did so. They were all walking through a corridor and it became clear enough to them that the alchemist was showing them the storage. Bronn was still not convinced.

“If you could get real soldiers to man the catapults, then maybe you’d hit the target one time in ten, but all the real soldiers are in the Riverlands with your father,” said Bronn to Tyrion.

“My lord, this man is insulting!” he complained.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a battle, old man,” the sellsword began, “but things can get a bit messy, ‘cause when we’re flinging things at Stannis, he’ll be flinging them right back at us. Men die, men shit themselves, men run, which means pots falling, which means fire inside the walls,  which means the poor cunts trying to defend the city end up burning it down.”

Tyrion thought Bronn to perhaps have a good point. “My friend still remains unconvinced.”

“Hmm, I can see why,” the Doctor said. “It does sound pretty dangerous after all.”

Finally, they have reached the door, and the man unlocked it.

“Men win wars, not fire tricks,” Bronn said for the last time.

Then, the door opened and it revealed to all of them numerous of pots, made in different sizes. Some were big, some were small and the rest were middle-sized. Tyrion dropped his mouth open, astonished at the vast number of wildfire made, and seriously, who wouldn’t be? That’s a number leading to peril. The dwarf walked a bit further in and found that there was more than what they were seeing. It was quite amazing how much work he had done with this harmful substance.

“We have been working tirelessly, day and night, ever since your royal sister commanded us to do so,” he explained. “Our present count comes at seven thousand, eight hundred and eleven. Enough to burn Stannis Baratheon’s fleet and armies both.”

Bronn shook his head and groaned. “This is a shit idea.”

Tyrion took one moment’s thought as he eyed one side to the other. The sight of it was incredible, and an idea popped up in his mind. When he thought about it, he smirked at himself.

“I’m afraid I have to concur with my adviser, Wisdom Hallyne,” he said as he kept looking at all the wildfire. “The contents of this room could lay King’s Landing low.” Then, he turned himself around and eyed the old man. “You won’t be making wildfire for my sister anymore. You’ll be making it for me.”

The man smiled, bowed and said, “A-as you command, my lord.”

Tyrion leered in satisfaction, stared at the alchemist for a brief while and then turned his eyes back to the substance.


	30. Bran

Bran dreamt of galloping through the corridors and running up the stairs. He heard himself pant and his feet ran excitedly towards a familiar door. It was the door to his dorm. Then, the door was opened; he jumped up and heard himself bark.

 

It was then when he woke up sweating.

 

He gasped and widened his eyes. He found Summer standing in front of him, panting as he was. Hodor merely stood there and Bran kept blinking.

 

_What on earth is happening?_

 

Bran turned his glance towards Hodor and said:

“Hodor, get Daeltrix now!”

“Hodor?” he asked as if he were asking ‘now?’.

“Yes, Hodor, NOW!”

The giant obliged and left to get the girl.

Bran took deep breaths as he awaited the presence of the girl. He felt frightened and confused, and the only thing he wanted right now was to be in Daeltrix’s arms and feel comforted by her presence.

 

*       *       *

 

The day passed by, the sun moved on and night-time fell in no time. Maester Luwin was tucking Bran to bed as the boy explained to him what happened.

“Every night is the same. I’m walking. I’m running, but….” Bran blinked his eyes and gulped thin air. How could he explain this to the Maester? “I’m not… I’m not me.” He took a short pause. “I’m running through the godswood, sniffing the dirt, tasting blood in my mouth when I made my first kill, howling. Old Nan used to tell me stories about magical people who could live inside stags, birds, wolves.”

Maester Luwin merely smiled and sighed. “That’s exactly what they are, Bran. Stories.”

Bran frowned. “So she was lying? They don’t exist?”

“Well, they may have done,” he replied. “But they’ve gone from the world along with much else.”

The boy didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t want to believe the words the Maester said to him but the only thing he could do was to give out a sheepish smile.

“These are just dreams, Bran,” the man assured. “Nothing more.”

“No,” Bran shook his head. “My dreams are different.” He swallowed thin air and felt himself frightened again. “My dreams are true. I dreamt about father dying, and… and Rickon had the same dream.”

“And what about the other dreams that did not come true? Hmm?”

 _Oh yes, I forgot about those_ , Bran thought and smiled. He now felt relieved, thinking that perhaps his mind was playing tricks and made his dreams feel so real. Maester and Bran smiled at each other, stare at each other for a while. They didn’t say any words until later, but Bran felt comforted by the old man.

Suddenly, he shook his shackles and Maester Luwin showed them to Bran. For a moment, the boy wondered why. But then, he understood.

“This steel is made of Valyrian steel. Only one master in one hundred wears it on his chain. It signifies that I have studied the higher mysteries. And all who study mysteries try their hands at spells. I was no different. I was young. And what boy doesn’t secretly wish for powers to lift him out of his dull life into a special one?” Bran smiled at that. He certainly wished so sometimes. “But in the end, for all my efforts, I got no more out of it than another thousand boys before me.” He chuckled at that. “Come on.”

Bran was helped out by the Maester, who made him lie down gently. He placed the covers on the boy and said:

“Alright, Maybe once magic was a mighty force to the world. But not anymore. The dragons are gone. The giants are dead. And the children of the forest forgotten.”

Bran stared at the Maester for a brief while, blinked his eyes and sighed, looking away from him. The old man kept grinning at him as he tilted his head a bit and told him:

“You had our guest very worried this morning.”

He blinked his eyes again as he glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“Lady Daeltrix couldn’t stop asking about your wellbeing. She thought perhaps you would be ill.”

He chuckled, shook his head and said, “But I’m not.”

“Yes, that’s what I told her.” He took a short break. “But you know, she really does care about you.”

“I know.” Bran grinned.

“And I suppose you feel the same way. Hmm?”

When the Maester affirmed that, Bran felt uncomfortable. Why on earth was he saying this to him? What was the old man implying? Bran dreaded to think what it would be.

The Maester gave out a soft laugh and went on. “Bran, it is no secret that you have grown very fond of her, or perhaps it is far more than that.” He glanced at him for a bit. “Some men even say you became besotted for her.”

Bran laughed at that. _What a preposterous idea_. “Me? Besotted? No, I’m just making her feel welcome at Winterfell. Besides, I’m only one and ten.”

“You bought her an expensive cloak in which you and Rickon both chose. You always go to her whenever you’re afraid or saddened, and you became so worried about her when she was hit with a wooden sword.” He smiled. “It is only natural, Bran.”

What, did he really care that much for her? Did he really get to her that much as well? Bran never noticed until now. Perhaps he was wrong about his feelings for her. Perhaps he did love her in some other way. Perhaps he did see her as someone he could be with for the rest of his life. Bran was unsure of this, but things were becoming clear for him now, and the Maester was seeing this as a constant act of love. It was undeniable.

“I am happy for you, my lord. And she would make a lovely wife.”

But really, he didn’t want him to go on about matrimony. This was far too much for him. “But Maester, I’m only a boy.”

“I know,” he agreed. “I was just saying perhaps if you considered a match, she would do well for you. That’s all.”

Bran knew Maester Luwin was right. If he were to be paired up with someone else, he would not have the same comfort that he found in Daeltrix. She had been there for him. She knew what he felt when he mourned for his father. She cared about Rickon as well. She was looking after both of them. Bran could not ask for more, nothing more than her affections. Now he knew that he felt for her, and Bran was ready to accept that. But he was not to think about wedding for a few more years, he was far too young, and now he wished that he were as old as his brother so he could have her.

But of course, this was a mere daydream. Nothing more.


	31. Daeltrix

Flashes came to her in her dreams. She saw the men of Winterfell dying, the head of Rodrick falling off, the dreaded face of Theon Greyjoy, and she heard Bran wail and Rickon beg. She knew from what part of the book this was, and it was obvious to her that any day now, this was to happen to them. And suddenly, an image of two dead boys came to her with a burnt stench, a rope around their throats, and the bodies of ashes were dangling out in the air. Then, she saw Bran mourning under the crypts of Winterfell.

 

 

This woke her up.

 

 

She gasped for air. She felt tears running down her cheeks and she knew that this was to happen to them soon. She read it in the book, and she watched it in her laptop. She hated the thought of those horrid moments, and she began to worry about both little ones. So, she got out of her bed, lit a candle and walked through the corridors. Somehow, she found herself going to Bran’s room first, and she could not understand why it was so. She merely accepted that, though.

 

She slowly opened the door to Bran’s room, tiptoed her way to him and reached his bed. She sat herself down gently, making sure that she did not frightened him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered his name.

 

“Bran…”

 

Bran stirred, groaned and turned his gaze to her. He blinked his eyes open, stared at her for a brief while and finally asked:

“My lady… you’re still awake?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep.” As embarrassing as she found, she knew it was better to be honest to him than to lie.

“But why?” he looked more worried as he grabbed hold of the wooden grip and sat up.

 _Because I had a bad dream in which these terrible things will happen to you and your brother_. She shrugged.  “I just couldn’t, that’s all.”

Bran kept blinking his eyes. “But why did you come here?”’

She gave out a sigh. “I just wanted make sure you were alright.”

Bran smiled. “But I’m not in any danger. I always feel safe when you’re with me.”

At this, Dale was surprised. _Did he really mean that?_ , she wondered. It was quite a shock that someone felt like that when she was near. No one’s ever said that to her, and she thought it touching. Her heart was beating slowly and calmly, and it made her feel good. She felt her eyes covering her escaping tears, but she tried her best to push them back inside their hiding place. She would not cry in front of Bran, and she wanted to be strong for both him and Rickon, as well as the Doctor and Clara despite the unlikeliness of them coming. The only thing she could do was grin, caress his cheek and whisper: “Well, that’s good to hear.”

Her fingers played with the soft skin of his cheek, and it felt warm to her, much warmer than the candle she lit to walk through the corridors. The boy glanced at her meekly as she pecked him gently on the forehead. She stared at him one more time and said, “I’m sorry I woke you up like this. I wanted to make sure you were safe in your bed.”

Bran smiled. “That’s alright. I understand.”

 _I made a promise to Robb, and I will not let you or Rickon get out of my sight_. Dale gave out a sigh as she helped him lie down and placed the covers on him one more time. “Go to sleep now, my lord. And may your dreams be sweet.”

Bran nodded, closed his eyes and slumbered once more. Dale took a deep breath and left the dorm.

She found herself walking through the hallways again, leading herself towards the dorm of Rickon. She then opened the door, called out to him and found that his bed was empty.

Dale blinked her eyes and got herself further in. She creeped her way to the cot, ensuring that what she was seeing was as it was. And she was right. Rickon was not in his bedroom.

 _Where would the little one go?_ , she thought to herself. Where on earth would Rickon go at this hour of night? And why on earth would a little boy sneak out of his bedroom? Dale was filled with these questions in her head, and nothing seemed clear to her. _Perhaps he’s taking a piss and he could not hold it off ‘til morning_ , the thought suddenly came up. Bu it sounded more like she was reassuring herself rather than saying fact. Who knows where Rickon went?

Dale gave out a grunt, looked from side to side, and even the ceiling. Once her glancing was over, she went out of the dorm, closed the door and walked through the corridor again.

 

*       *       *

 

She had finally reached her bedroom, and she closed the door slowly. Once she had done so, she turned herself around and flinched and gasped at the sight. Rickon was sitting right there, at her bed.

 

*        *        *

 

Rickon sat there, as a ghost wound in a horror story, or perhaps even a horror movie. His face was pale in the dark night, his blue eyes glossy and he seemed to shiver a bit. He blinked his eyes, tilted his head and merely stared at her. Dale had to take a deep breath, relieved to see that it was Rickon, not a ghost, who was there at her bed. She took a few more, soothed herself and finally managed to say:

“Oh Rickon… it’s you.”

“O-of course it’s me!” he exclaimed, sounding just as scared as she. “I couldn’t be anyone else.”

She breathed in and out a few more times than what she could remember. Rickon almost scared her to death, but it was a good thing he did too. At least she didn’t have to worry about his whereabouts anymore.

“Where have you been?” that was the first thing she asked. “I’ve been looking for you, thinking that perhaps you were in your ow dorm.”

“B-but why were you looking for me?” he asked.

“To make sure you were safe and sound.” She took a pause as she closed the door and approached her bed. “I made Robb a promise that I would look after you and Bran. There is no way I would ever turn my back on my duties.”

Rickon gave out a meek grin. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Dale sat down, gave out a sigh and asked, “How come you are in my dorm?”

Rickon’s smile faded, he blinked his eyes, glanced up and down at her and admitted, “I’m scared.” He took a short pause. “I had a bad dream about bad people coming here to attack us and I became scared.”

It seemed as though he had a similar dream to hers. She really hoped it would not be the exact same one. “It’s just a bad dream,” she managed to say with a soft grin. “Hey, why don’t you come here?”

In an instant, Rickon approached her and hugged her. He leaned his head on her chest and Dale stroked his hair gently. She could feel the poor boy’s fear, and this reminded her of the time when Bran cried to her the day they found out about Eddard’s death. She then pulled away from him and asked, “Would you like me to bring you back to your chambers?”

He shook his head vigorously. “No, I want to stay here! You make me feel safe.”

And once again, she got surprised at this. _Minutes ago, your brother said the same thing_. Did they really take her in as family?

She smiled and nodded. “Alright, you can stay here for the night.”

Rickon was relieved when she said that. Then, both fixed themselves up, laid down at the bed and placed the covers on. Rickon held onto her, as if he’d hold his mother and turned to look at her once more.

“Can you tell me a story while I sleep?”

Dale was about to sleep, but once again, Rickon stopped her from doing so. She gave out  a sigh. “What sort of story?”

“The one with the little hobbits,” he answered.

Then, Dale went on to tell him the story of Bilbo Baggins and the Lonely Mountain, and then onto Frodo and Sam’s story. As she progressed into the tale, both Rickon and Dale drifted off to sleep, where nicer dreams took over them and made them both calm.


	32. Clara

In the morning, she bathed. The clean water felt nice against her skin, and she took a deep breath as she closed her eyes and felt the light hit her. The light of day made her feel good, but despite that she really didn’t feel like seeing the Khaleesi (not after the way she talked to her last night.) She took a deep breath and enjoyed the moment of silence, a moment in which Daenerys Targaryen was not present. She really wished that the woman with silver hair and purple eyes would be much calmer about it, instead of having her yell for a mere disagreement. _Pfft… never mind her_ , Clara thought to herself. _I am taking a nice bath and I have better things to think about_.

She had been there for a while, and she really didn’t want to get out of the bath (seeing as she felt very warm today). Clara closed her eyes and lifted her head high, humming a random tune that came into her head, just like Dal would when she was bored. Oh, how she missed her and the Doctor… She really wished that they were both here with her… but of course, not joining her in the bath, just in the TARDIS, having a good time and talking, just like the last time she saw them. She thought about Daleks, Cybermen and Zygons. She had in mind planets, trains, moons and places and she could not help but wonder what would have happened if none of them encountered that black hole. She really did wonder.

 

And for a while she thought… but that was until the sound of someone clearing her throat disrupted her. Clara opened her eyes to see who it was, and as soon as she saw Daenerys Targaryen standing there, watching her bathe, the woman gasped, splashed and tried to cover both her bare breasts with her arms. Daenerys stood there smiling. _Now why on earth is she doing that?_ , Clara wondered.

The first thing Clara said to the Mother of Dragons was: “God… you scared me.”

Daenerys chuckled. “My apologies for that, Lady Clara.”

 _Well, she seems in a better mood_. “Umm… well, that’s alright.”

Daenerys kept glancing at Clara, which made her feel awkward, she lowered herself, sat down and rippled the water with her toes. This seemed strange to the brown-haired woman.

“How are you feeling?” Daenerys asked.

 _A bit pissed_ , she wanted to say. “Refreshed,” that was the word that covered up how she felt.

She chuckled. “I can see. You’re taking a nice bath in the break of morning.”

Clara laughed as well. “Why wouldn’t I? I like to keep myself clean.”           

“Yes, that’s true…” Daenerys’s voice died away as she glanced at her feet and then back at Clara.

Clara blinked her eyes and stared back at her for a long time as she expected something else to happen. But nothing _did_ happen. The only thing occurring was her having a bath and the Khaleesi sitting there watching her as if that would be normal.

 

 _She really is strange_.

 

After a while, Daenerys gave out a sigh, twirled her finger to form a ripple and said:

“About last night, Lady Clara, I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. I may not agree with your opinion, but I spoke to you with disrespect, and for that I apologize.” Clara seemed surprised by this. “I hope that would not affect our new-found friendship.”

 _New-found friendship?_ , she really wanted to laugh. Not because she didn’t believe it, but because she found it funny, the way she said it. But still, at least she apologized and Clara grinned. “Well, I thank you for that, and you’re forgiven.”

Daenerys’s smile widened even more. “Well I’m glad.” She took a short pause. “And how did you sleep last night?”

“Hmm… like a baby,” Clara answered. “The beds in Meereen are quite comfortable,” _but not as comfortable as my actual bed, or the TARDIS_.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that,” Daenerys declared. She glanced at her toes again, and then back at Clara. She seemed to do that quite often. “And have you had breakfast yet?”

Clara shook her head. “No, I haven’t. Not yet, anyway.”

Daenerys smiled. “Alright, then. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you at the meal because there’s a large audience waiting for me, and I’m expected there very soon.”

Clara seemed a bit disappointed, but she understood perfectly. Being a Queen really meant being busy.

“But Missandei and I have set up some food for you at your dorm. You can help yourself as much as you like.”

Clara grinned. “Well, thank you.”

Daenerys did the same for her. “You’re welcome.”

 

*       *      *

 

Eventually, Clara finished her bath and dressed herself up. Daenerys made her way to the great pyramid of Meereen and Clara went to her dorm. There, she found a table filled with delicious ripe fruits, bread, honey and many other things… yes, even some strange things she didn’t know. At the sight, she smiled, and as soon as she saw all this, she decided that she was to eat all of that for the whole morning.


	33. Bran

Today was just as boring as any day, but at least he didn’t just have Maester Luwin at his side. Daeltrix was there too, as was Rickon. The little boy, though, kept smashing things with a rock and against the table. The noise really annoyed him more than anything.

“And it’s not just thieves, my lord,” the Northern man explained as the banging went on. “There’s wolves in the hills now, more than I’ve ever seen. They come down in the night and kill my sheep. My three sons are away fighting for your brother, my lord. They’ll fight; keep fighting, until they’re told to go home. I have no one to man my flock now. Only me. I can’t keep watch all day and night.”

Bran smiled. This, he could handle, and this he did understand. “We can send two orphan boys from Winterstown home with you to help watch over your flock if you can give them room and board.” _Yes, this sounded fair_ , Bran thought.

The man smiled widely when he heard this. “My wife always prayed for more children. We’ll look after them. Thank you, my lord. May the Gods bless you and yours.”

Giddily, the man left and so did everyone else. Once they were all getting out of the hall, Bran turned to his youngest brother, who kept smashing things out of boredom and got up at him.

“Stop it!” he exclaimed.

In no time, Rickon did as he was told and put his stone down. There was a silent moment as Bran gave out a sigh and glanced around the hall. Then, he spoke again.

“If that’s everyone, I’m going for a ride before dark.” Bran turned to Daeltrix. “Will you be coming with me, my lady?”

“Yes, I will,” she affirmed.

“Good, good,” approved Maester Luwin.

Bran then called out for the giant and Hodor answered as he was about to come to him. But then, the presence of Rodrick Cassel and a few men got the attention of the boy as they approached him.

“Lord Stark!” he called out. “Torrhen’s Square is under siege!”

As soon as they have heard this, everyone was shocked. Bran had no words to say, so it fell to the Maester to say something about the happenings.

“Torrhen’s square is barely 40 leagues from here.” That made Bran even more panicked. “How can the Lannister strike so far north?”

“Might be a party led by the Mountain,” Ser Rodrick replied. “Might be sellswords paid by Tywin Lannister.”

“We have to help them!” that was the first thing Bran said. Of course they had to! There was no way he would ever leave them defenceless!

“Most of the fighting men are away with Robb,” Ser Rodrick pointed out. “But I can gather 200 decent men.”

The Maester didn’t seem happy about that. “Do you need so many?”

“If we can’t even protect our own bannermen, why should they fight for us?!” snapped Bran. Then, he turned to the old knight and commanded, “Go Ser Rodrick, take the men you need.”

The man bowed, smiled in approval and murmured, “It won’t take long, my lord.”

As Ser Rodrick left with the other men, Bran felt his heart flutter. Not with gladness, of course, but in fear. He was so afraid as to what this would be, who would be marching northwards. He felt his body shudder and his hands harden into feasts. He may be a crippled boy, but he felt his whole body become strong with tension, even his dangling legs. He was so afraid, he had no idea how to deal with this, and he felt his eyes quiver. _What if something bad happened to the people? What if crops were being burnt and they would be left with nothing to help them survive? What if they died? What if--?_

Then, a hand was placed on his, and at that he flinched. Once he saw whose hand it was, it made him more soothed and relieved. Daeltrix, who sat between him and the Maester, gave out a small glance of sympathy and blinked her hazel eyes at him. The gaze she gave him was comforting, and he knew now that he was not alone in this, _and I will never have to be again once I’m of age. Then I can name her my Lady Regent of Winterfell_.

The fear was then taken over by that one wish he longed for.

 

*       *       *

 

After a few moments, he managed to put aside the thoughts of what happened just then at the hall. Instead, his mind was filled with the thought of the three-eyed raven, and he kept asking this to Osha, who seemed to have gotten a bit annoyed by it.

“So, what does it mean?”

She gave out a sigh as she walked next to Hodor, who carried him. “You should ask your Maester. He’s the one reading books all the time.”

“I did ask him,” he affirmed. “He’s never heard of a three-eyed raven.”

She shrugged. “Must not mean anything, then.”

Bran glanced at her and blinked his eyes. “You’re lying.”

“You might be a little lord, but don’t you call me a liar!” Osha snapped.

“Oh come on! You know what it means!”

“I never said I didn’t,” she muttered.

Bran was brought to his horse, and both Hodor and Osha were setting up his saddle. Bran looked down at the Wildling woman and said:

“You didn’t give me an honest answer.”

“That’s not the same as being a liar,” she pointed out.

“Well… it’s not far off,” he remarked.

She gave out a grunt. “So, you’re dreaming of the three-eyed raven again?” she questioned as Bran was finally sat up and feeling uncomfortable when she said this. She smirked. “In the godswood you told me you didn’t dream. Now who’s a liar?”

Ah… she got him. He had lied to her, but she saw right through him. Bran could not help but smile, he really couldn’t, but talking about his dreams didn’t make him feel any better at all, especially with this one, which made him uneasy and it was one that he did not understand. The woman tilted her head and asked:

“So, what did you see in your dream?”

Bran seemed hesitant to tell her. He thought perhaps if she knew, Osha would think him stupid, or perhaps something else. But really, he didn’t feel like telling her.

“Something bad?” she glanced at him a while longer. “Tell me boy.”

Bran swallowed a bit of thin air and went on to explain: “I dreamt that the sea came to Winterfell.” He took a short pause. “I saw waves crashing against the gates and the water came flowing over the walls… It flooded the castle. Drowned men were floating here, in the yard.” He stopped once again as he looked down sadly and took a deep breath. He really didn’t like thinking about it. “Ser Rodrick was one of them.”

Osha stared at him for a while. From the look that she was giving, Bran could tell she did not understand either. Dreams do often get crazy, and perhaps this was one of them. The woman shook her head and muttered, “The sea is hundreds of miles away.”

“I know,” he agreed. “It’s just a stupid dream.”

Osha grunted again, gave out a grin and looked down at the basket she had attached at her side. “I’ve got to get these potatoes to the kitchen. Otherwise they’ll put me in chains again.”

Bran gave out a nod and watched her leave slowly as another thought came in mind. Before she was completely gone, the boy blinked his eyes again and asked, “Osha, The three-eyed raven, what do they say about it north of the wall?”

Osha turned to look at the boy, shrugged and answered, “They say all sorts of crazy things beyond the wall.”

As she had gone to the castle, Bran grinned and the clearing of throat startled him for a moment. He turned to see that Daeltrix was already set up for riding and he smiled even more when he saw her.

“Ready to go for riding, my lord?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

 

*       *       *

 

They have finally reached the woods, and the horses have calmed down after racing against each other for a while. The poor mares were tired, and Bran and Daeltrix could not stop laughing.

“You were completely ridiculous, Bran!” exclaimed Daeltrix. “You were far behind from me!”

He scoffed. “Says you, my lady. You fell from your horse and hit your head!”

She chuckled. “Well, I guess you win. I fell from my horse _and_ looked pathetic.”

They both laughed again and stared at each other. As the mirth died away, they smiled and blinked their shy eyes. Daeltrix gave out a grunt and asked:

“How are you enjoying the horse riding, my lord?”

“Quite well, actually.” He grinned even more. “I don’t often get to do this as much as I would like to, and today you came to keep me company.”

She gave out that lovely beam of hers and glanced down for a bit. Then, she looked back at him. “Well, why wouldn’t I? Maester Luwin would kill me if I left you all alone, and it would be the same with Robb and Osha.”

Bran shrugged. “You have a good point there.” Daeltrix chuckled and Bran blinked his eyes. He got his horse to approach hers a bit more and asked, “You haven’t seen the weirwood yet. Would you like me to show you?”

She nodded. “I would love that.”

As they kept staring at each other, the calling out of the simple-minded giant ruined the moment for them. Oh yes, Hodor came with them too, and they ran too quickly for him. Bran groaned in annoyance. He so wanted this moment to be perfect, but no, Hodor had to interrupt everything, as always. Both Bran and Daeltrix turned to look at Hodor, who came running and puffing and ‘Hodoring’. Bran glanced at him meekly and muttered, “Hodor.”

“Hodor,” Hodor said.

Daeltrix smiled. “Come, Hodor. I believe Lord Bran will need help getting unbuckled from his horse.”

At that, Hodor chuckled. “Hodor.”

 

*       *       *

 

Once Hodor was finished lowering Bran from his horse, the boy dismissed the giant, and Hodor went towards the trees and kept calling out his own name. Bran gave out a sigh, finally free of the giant and turned to look at Daeltrix, who glanced around the place and smiled in serenity.

“What do you think?” Bran asked.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered as she stared at him. “I don’t know why, but there’s something about it that makes me calm.”

He grunted. “Well, that’s good to know.”

She turned to look at the tree and stood up, leaning her delicate hand on the bark of the trunk. “And the tree… there’s something peculiar about it.” She took a short pause as she blinked her eyes and grinned at it. “It’s as if it’s watching us both now.”

It was quite funny she said that. Osha said something similar a few moons ago. “Osha says that the Old Gods answer my prayers.”

She turned to look at him again. “I think she’s right. You have a pure heart and a kindness in you, Bran, unlike so many others. Maybe that’s why the Gods answer you: because they see the goodness in you and you always hope for something better tomorrow.” She took a short pause. “And I suppose they can see that you love your family and friends more than anything in the world, even more than yourself, so I believe that’s a good reason for them to listen to you.”

That made him blush. No one’s ever said that to him, and he had never thought of it that way, let alone thought himself kind. And Bran was not one who believes the Gods would answer people’s prayers according to what it was in the heart. Regardless of that, the compliment made him feel light hearted. “I’m not that kind, trust me.”

She shrugged. “Well, you’re modest. That’s a good thing.”

And his cheeks burned red even more. He felt his heart flutter and his stomach turn into a knot. What was it he was feeling? Was this the sort of love Maester Luwin mentioned to him when he fell asleep? Was this what he felt for her? What was it about her that made him feel like this? _No…_ He dreaded to think about that.

She chuckled a bit, glanced down and said, “I see I made you fall quiet, my lord.”

He pouted his lip and shook his head lightly. “Well, I don’t know what to say, my lady. You’re far too thoughtful and--”

She got herself down to her knees, just like Bran and placed her finger in front of his lips gently as she hushed him. His heart began to beat even faster and his eyes glimmered as he stared right at hers and finished his sentence. “I-I don’t know how to return your kind words.”

“You don’t have to say anything in return, Bran. Your friendship is already enough for me.”

 _My friendship… my…_ Bran knew he wanted more than that, but he was far too young to even think about such things. He was the Lord of Winterfell, but age stopped him from getting what he wanted. As always, he would remind himself that he is one and he would never want to scare Daeltrix in any way. Had his father been alive and in Winterfell, Bran would have told him everything, and everything would have been alright. But still, talking about this to someone else made him feel awkward, and even the mere mention of his own feelings made him shudder. As he briefly thought this, he placed his hand on hers, slowly entwining their fingers together as he smiled ever brightly and remarked:

“My father would have liked you very much.”

When this was mentioned, she gave out a giggle. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so,” he affirmed. “I think mother would too.”

As she gently let go of his hand, she asked, “And what about your siblings?”

He shrugged. “Well, I think my sisters would like you too, Arya more than Sansa though. I know Rickon cares for you and it’s the same with Robb.” At the mere mention of his own brother, he thought about the way he acted around Daeltrix, how he could give glimpses, how his blue eyes would glimmer when he looked at her… how he would smile in that particular way. He had to admit he hated it when Robb did that, because Bran liked her very much too, but seeing as he was his older brother, he would have anything he wanted, and he would deserve it – because Robb is a good brother. Bran gulped thin air, glanced at her again and said, “He seemed to like you very much… I-I daresay he loved you.”

She chuckled a bit when Bran said that. “Yes, he did love me.” Bran felt his heart sink gradually. “But in a different way.”

He raised an eyebrow just then. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he told me he saw me as a sister.”

 _Oh wow…_ that relieved him more than anything, and his heart lifted again. He could not help but feel himself shocked. All those glances Bran thought he gave and those grins… was it really all in his mind? “R-really?” that was the word he managed.

She laughed. “Well, he told me himself before he left.”

And again, he could not help but smile and giggle a bit. “That’s good to know.”

She tilted her head as she arched an eyebrow and stared at him. “Well, you seem happy about that.”

“I am, actually,” he affirmed. He was glad about Robb not liking her that way, but he didn’t want her to know that. “I’m very glad he sees you as a sister.”

“Are you sure it’s not something else?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’m very sure.”

She gave out a long grunt as she studied his gaze, and as she did that, his smile slowly faded, afraid to even think what would be deep inside that mind of hers. He swallowed thin air, eyed her and he felt completely sheepish. Did he really give away the hint of his own feelings just like that? _What a fool…_

Thankfully, she didn’t press on. She merely placed her hand on his shoulder again, and this time, her eyes looked a bit sad. She gave out a sigh and said: “Well, if my family was still alive I believe they would have liked you too.”

Bran glanced at her hand and placed his on hers. He beamed a bit, blinked his brown eyes and looked at her again. “You know they’ll always be with you no matter where you are.”

“That’s quite true,” she affirmed with a smile and eyes that gave a slight painful look. The hazel of her irises glimmered, and Bran did not know whether she was sad or thinking, let alone remembering. There were often times when she looked as if she were at the brink of tears, but always she would dust herself off and laugh. He really wanted to know what was wrong with her, but Bran never knew where to start, and every time he found a way, she would just smile and converse as if nothing happened. It saddened him to see her like that, and right now was one of these moments. This time, he didn’t know what to say, and he really wished he could be brave enough to ask about her wellbeing, seeing as she was always taking care of both him and Rickon, never even giving a second thought to herself. As she took a deep breath, she grinned again, stared at him for a long while and caught him by surprise – she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. At that, Bran gave a small gasp, shocked by this. Daeltrix would often kiss him on the forehead, but never on the cheek, and Bran’s eyes glimmered with a bit of hope. Perhaps she might feel the same way as him. But of course, one could never put their hopes too high.

She gently pulled away from him and beamed continuously, caressed his cheek and muttered, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Bran smiled back. He could not help himself. He kept staring at her, his eyes going from her hazel eyes to her plump pink lips. He didn’t know why he was looking at them, but he liked the sight of them. Sometimes, he even wondered what would happen if someone kissed them, because those lips were always giving out words of love and care, and those lips had always comforted him in the dark of night, and whenever he missed his family. His eyes turned back to hers as he blinked them and said, “You’re welcome, my lady.”

And for a while they sat before the tree, staring at it and eventually praying for Robb to come home safely with mother and Sansa and Arya. He really hoped to see them soon somehow.


	34. Sansa

At night she sat at her desk, reading a book while Shae brushed her hair before she would go to sleep. It was not usual of her to do that, but she felt like it today. In fact, no matter what she did in her room, she always felt better when none of the Lannister’s or the members of the small council were present. She couldn’t even tolerate handmaidens, actually. The only person she could bear was Shae, because she knew exactly how she felt and she was always listening to her. No one did her that kindness ever since her father died. But of course, she should not forget about the kind actions did as well for her: giving her his condolences for her father’s death and stopped Joffrey from beating her publicly. It was the least someone could do, and it still didn’t make her feel better at all. Sansa wished more than anything that she would be in any other place where she could be happier – _any other place but King’s Landing_.

 

*      *      *

 

Sansa had been sleeping peacefully, dreaming of Winterfell, her siblings and her parents. She missed them so much, the dream felt so real. But that was until she heard a buzzing noise coming from the corridors. It made her flinch. It was unnatural. _What on earth is going on?_ , she thought to herself. Could it be that the builders were working on another part of the castle? _No, it couldn’t be_ , Sansa shook her head. _No one in their right mind would do that at this hour of night. Well, what else could it be?_ , she wondered. _If it’s not people fixing a building site elsewhere, what would make that awful noise?_ Sansa really wanted to know.

She got herself out of bed, slipped her feet through some boots and went on to explore what was happening, and of course, she could not forget to light a candle to guide her in the dark. She tiptoed her way to the door and opened it slowly and soundlessly. She glanced around. She made sure no one was outside, that no one would decide to spy on her and report everything she was doing to the Queen or to Joffrey, not even someone from the small council – for she has heard that they were not people to trust. She took another look and one more time. It seemed good enough for her to leave and see what it would be making the noise.

 

*        *        *

 

Every step she took, she found herself closer to the strange whirring, glancing from side to side as she passed through corridors and doors as well as she have climbed down a few stairs. She got closer and closer. They noise became louder, and once she had reached the place where it came from, she saw something strange: an old tall man in his sleeping garments, pointing at the ceiling with some kind of wand that vibrated out a terrible sound and Sansa could not comprehend what she was seeing.

The old man muttered to himself, grunting and groaning and whining. The girl blinked her blue eyes, her hand holding steadily as she tilted her head and watched for a while longer. But now she knew she should be saying something to him, for it was late and people would be sleeping as well as she should.

“Ser?!” exclaimed Sansa as she lifted the skirts of her night gown and sprinted towards him. “What on earth are you doing?!”

“Nothing,” he quickly glanced and answered. “Now shoo!”

Sansa shook her head and groaned. “But Ser, you are making so much noise here! Can’t you see that you’ve bothered my sleep?”

The man lowered his wand again, stared and raised his ferocious eyebrows. “Do I look like I care?”

Sansa stared at him for a while longer. She felt an eyebrow arch up and it seemed clear to her that he was not the type who care about anything. “Hmm… no, I don’t believe so, which I find rather rude.”

“Well,” he went on to say, “as rude as you may find it to be, I have things to do. Now shoo!”

The old man turned back to the ceiling and Sansa kept staring at him again. For some reason, it seemed quite curious that he did that, and somehow she found it fascinating that a man with a strange baton was making noise and pointing at the ceiling. Sansa blinked her eyes, gave out a sigh and felt something spark in her mind. Now that she thought about it, she had seen this man before, and before she even had a chance to speak to him properly, the Queen sent her away, claiming that she cared about her. As people would say, it’s bullshit. But then again, Sansa was not the type to swear, even inside her mind. Sansa knew the Queen hated her more than anything, so why did she send her away when the man was merely greeting her?

Sansa blinked her eyes once more, cleared her throat and approached the candle a bit closer to him. “Ser… I know you.”

“Oh you do?” the man asked as he kept pointing his wand upwards whilst turning himself from side to side.

She nodded. “Yes… a few days ago, you tried to greet me, but then the Queen told me to leave the corridor before I could say anything else.”

Then, the noise stopped. The man turned his gaze towards her and stared for a long while. Sansa meekly stood there, expecting for him to react in some way, or at least she thought he might speak. He actually did the latter as he took a few steps towards her and blinked his peculiar eyes.

“Oh yes…” he muttered as he tilted his head from side to side. “We did meet. How could I forget…?” He cleared his throat this time. “Are you Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell?”

The girl gave out a puzzled look. “How did you know my name?”

“Uh… the imp told me,” he said sheepishly. “Tyrion Lannister.”

Sansa nodded. She glanced up and down at him and said, “I never got to know yours, ser.”

The tall old man grinned. “Well, I’m Mister Doctor.” He then took out his hand and shrugged. “Just call me Doctor, though.”

Meekly and clueless, Sansa stared at his hand, blinked her eyes again and asked, “Why is your hand out, Mister Doctor?”

He dropped his mouth open, but he seemed lost for words. For a while the both stared, and then, Mister Doctor answered, “Where I come from, we shake hands instead of doing curtsies and bows.”

As Sansa took his hand reluctantly and shook it lightly, she asked, “And where do you come from, Doctor?”

He hesitated. “…It’s a long story.”

By hearing those words, Sansa could already assume that the Doctor did not want to speak of his own origins, which was understandable. She merely nodded again and took her hand away from him. She gazed at the floor for a moment and then back at the man. She still wondered what he was doing, so she asked him about it. “So what are you doing with your wand, good ser?”

He gave out a sigh. He glanced up and then back at Sansa. “I thought I heard voices.”

She tilted her head. “Sorry?”

“I heard voices,” he repeated himself. “Up at the roof, I heard them. They were as loud as you are and clear as glass.” He took a short pause. “I could have sworn there were spirits here.”

Sansa smiled in empathy. There would be times when she thought she heard her brothers, her parents and her sister calling to her, speaking to her, but every time she woke up, they were gone. They were nowhere in sight and she would end up weeping to herself. She could only assume that perhaps this man felt the same way. The only thing she could do was stare at him and grin. “I think you’ve been dreaming, good ser. I think you should go back to sleep, or else people will wake up, and none of us want that.”

He nodded. “Yes of course…” He glanced at her again. “I must be dreaming.”

Sansa beamed a bit, kept holding onto her candle as she gave out a curt nod.

“I should leave you to rest, Mister Doctor. I bid you goodnight.”

The Doctor grinned. “And I do the same to you, my lady.”

As Sansa gazed at him, she kept her smile, leaving him slowly until she knew it was not rude to turn around.

She then climbed up the stairs and walked through corridors, although this time, she seemed lost. She couldn’t remember her way to her bedroom and the light of the candle was slowly becoming dim. She nearly ran out of light and she almost lost hope in finding her dorm again, but that was until both a fright and a feeling of relief took over her. She encountered the Hound, making her yelp and sigh. It took her a while to regain her breath as she placed one hand at her heart, and once she did, the big man looked at her with that sulking and angry face of his as he grunted and asked:

“What’s the little bird doing, roaming around in the dead of night?”

Sansa felt her breath quiver. “I-I was relieving myself. I needed some fresh air.”

“This far from your dorm?”

She kept stammering. She had no idea what to say next and the Hound stared at her for a very long time, waiting and expecting an answer from her. She kept stammering, and this time, she decided that she would tell him half a truth.

“W-well, I didn’t pay attention to my steps, Ser. I seemed to have gotten lost in the dark.”

He studied her gaze for a while, and Sansa hated it when he did that. For a long time he did that, and then he gave out a sigh. It seemed as though he really couldn’t be bothered questioning her tonight.

“Come on, little bird,” he said. “I’ll take you back to your dorm.”

Sansa sighed in relief and thanked the man as she was to be escorted back to her bedroom.


	35. Bran

Early in the break of the cold morning, a voice woke him from his dream.

“I’m taking your castle!”

It was Theon’s voice. But that was not possible… supposedly; he was with Robb fighting against the Lannister’s. It couldn’t possibly be him. But it was. He saw him there with another man as soon as he opened his eyes properly and leaned on his weak elbows.

“Theon…” he heard himself mutter.

“It’s _Prince_ Theon now,” putting emphasis on the word ‘Prince’. “Get up! You have to get dressed.”

Slowly, Bran tried to sit up whilst trying to comprehend what was happening.

“I’m taking Winterfell.” At that, Bran blinked his eyes in shock and Theon went on to elaborate even more. “I took it. I’m occupying it. I sent the men over the walls with grappling claws and ropes.”

“Why?” Bran asked.

“To take the castle.”

Slowly, he was becoming upset. “But you went with Robb.”

“And he sent me back to Pyke,” he added and turned away from Bran’s gaze as he gave out a sigh. “I’m a Greyjoy. I can’t fight for Robb and my father both.” Then, he turned to look at Bran again. “Where’s Hodor?”

“I-I don’t know,” he murmured meekly.

Theon turned to the stranger. “Find the halfwit.” The man nodded and left as Theon turned to Bran again. “My men are bringing your people to gather at the courtyard.”

“Why?” he asked again.

“So you and I can go down and tell them how you yielded Winterfell to me,” he answered.

Bran bit his lip and gulped thin air for a brief while. He could not stop thinking about his own fear but regardless he would not let Winterfell fall at the hands of a man who was once his brother’s friend. “I won’t.”

As Theon approached him, he demanded, “Yes, you will.”

Bran grabbed hold of his newly applied grip and both saw each other eye to eye. “I won’t,” he declared. “I’ll never yield. We’ll fight you and throw you out if we have to.”

Hearing the words of a boy, Theon approached him, sat down and cleared his throat. For a brief while, he eyed him with that tense look of his.

“The castle is mine, but the people are still yours.” He took a short pause. “You’ll yield to keep them safe, to keep them alive. That’s what a good lord would do.”

Bran had no words to follow that. He had no idea what Theon was talking about, but whatever he meant by that, he knew it would be something bad, or even worse, terrible. Bran turned his glance away, gulping, thinking about the people that had been kind to him, the innocent lives that inhabited in Winterfell, the people that were loyal to his family and the men that had been friends with his father and brothers. He thought about the Maester, and he thought about Hodor, Osha and Rickon. But most importantly, he thought about his most precious friend Daeltrix, the girl flowering into a woman, and the one that had been looking after both he and his little brother the most. There was no doubt Bran would do anything to keep her safe, to return the favour. His eyes began to sting as he thought about what was happening, as he thought about her, but the last thing he wanted to do was show weakness. The only thing he could do was keep his head straight, look at Theon in the eye and say nothing. Slightly pissed at this, Theon placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, a hand he once trusted, and now a hand that he wanted to shove away. Theon would often tease him and Bran would be angry at him for that, but still he cared for him and so did his family. Why was he doing this to them?

“Think carefully of what you want to say,” he said that more as a warning.

He then stood up from his bead and was about to leave the dorm, but that was until Bran called after him. Theon had no choice but to look at him again.

“Did you hate us the whole time?” Bran questioned, not in anger, but in sadness.

 

 _I think Theon feels it too_.

 

Theon stared at him for a while, his eyes shaking as much as Bran’s. He gulped thin air; he rolled his shoulders and left without giving him a response. Bran will never know what Theon’s true feelings were when he was playing with Robb and Jon, training with both of them and interacting with the rest of them. More than anything, he wished Daeltrix could come here and comfort him. But he knew he couldn’t. Theon was here and it would be no secret that he would not be allowed to do that.

As the events that just happened sunk in his mind, he felt a tear come out from his eye and cascade down to his soft cheek. He took a deep breath and thought about the lives that he would have to protect from Theon today.


	36. Daeltrix

They were all gathered at the courtyard by order of Theon Greyjoy. It began to rain softly outside and Dale stood behind Bran, holding onto Rickon and standing beside both Osha and Hodor. She knew what part this was, and this was one she hated the most.

“I’ve yielded Winterfell to Theon,” she heard Bran mutter.

“Louder,” demanded Theon. “And say _Prince_ Theon.”

Repeating the words with the one demand: “I’ve yielded Winterfell to Prince Theon.”

The people began to mutter in shock and fear, but Dale’s eyes could not be turned away from Bran. She could see his weak body shaking, and she sensed how afraid he was. She understood that perfectly. Had she been in his place, she would have felt far worse – in fact, she would have wept. But Bran didn’t. She always knew he would be stronger than her despite his dangling legs.

“You all know me!” Theon’s voice disrupted Dale’s thoughts.

“Aye!” a man confirmed. “We know you for being a steaming sack of shit!” This was something Dale definitely agreed with.

“Farlen, you be silent!” commanded Bran with a strained voice.

“You should listen to your little lord, Farlen,” Theon adviced. “He has more sense than you do.”

As the people kept murmuring, Bran said, “All of you should do as he commands.”

“My father has donned the ancient crown of salt and rock and declared himself king of the Iron Islands,” Theon announced. “He claims the north by right of conquest. You are all his subjects.”

“Bugger that!” Farlen exclaimed. “I serve the Stark’s! If you think you can hold the north with it--”

“Shut up!” an Iron Islander exclaimed as he hit Farlen and knocked him down. They all gasped and yelped whilst Dale merely flinched.

“You serve me as loyally as you served Ned Stark, I’ll be as good to you as he ever was. Betray me and you wish you hadn’t,” he warned them all and let all the people of Winterfell talk amongst themselves. Theon merely turned to face the Maester. “Maester Luwin, send a Raven to Pyke, informing my father of my victory here. And one to Deepwood Motte to my sister. Inform her that she’s to bring five hundred men to Winterfell.” He then let a moment of silence inhabit as Maester Luwin gazed at him with that sulking face of his. It was sadness that was buried in his eyes, and for a very good reason: he had always served faithfully to the Stark’s and he looked after Theon as he did Robb, Bran, Rickon and the rest of the children. This was to be a sad day for them all. “You are a Maester of the citadel, sworn to serve the lord of Winterfell, are you not?”

Silence struck again as he blinked his eyes. Dale looked back and forth at the Maester and Theon Greyjoy, the complete ass who betrayed the Stark’s for good. The Maester glanced down at his feet and then back at Theon. “I am,” he muttered in distress.

“I am a Lord of Winterfell as Bran just informed you,” he annoyingly reminded him. “Send the ravens.”

For a long time, he stared at Theon sadly one last time. Then, he gave a curt nod and obliged. Then, he walked away. The next person who came forth was Osha, who stepped away from them all and bowed her head and greeted him. This shocked Bran and Rickon, the little boy who let go of the girl’s skirts. However, Dale was not surprised. Theon smirked at that.

“I see you finally learned how to address your betters,” he mocked. “What do you want?”

“I was brought here a captive,” she said. “You were here the day I was taken.”

He scoffed. “I’m the one that took you. What of it?”

She then fell to her knees. “Let me serve you.”

The Iron Islanders laughed whilst Bran started to look angry. Dale could see his hands form into fists, and she wished to defuse him. However, she could not move. It was as if her feet were stuck to the ground. But thankfully, Bran heard her whisper as he turned to glance at her. He saw her shake her head, as if she were saying ‘Bran, don’t think anything rash’. It seemed to calm him enough.

“Serve me how?” questioned the ass. “I need fighters, not kitchen sluts!”

Osha looked up at him. “It was Robb Stark who put me in the kitchens! Put a spear in my hand again!” she begged.

He scoffed again. “So you can bury it in my neck? You take me for a fool?” Osha did not respond. “Get up!” Osha stood up and then, he shoved her away. Osha went back to standing behind Bran, who looked at her almost tearfully and whispered:

“Why?”

As Theon kept speaking to the people of Winterfell, Osha answered: “It’s your dream, little lord. The ocean has come to swallow this place. I ain’t letting it drown me.”

Theon kept speaking out his annoying voice, and Dale seriously wished she could shove a spear up his arse for doing this to them. She knew how the story went and she now had the power to change things and make it better for Bran and Rickon and everyone in Winterfell. So why did she stand there like a useless piece of shit and was not willing to take the chance?

Well, she guessed that experience with the Doctor and Clara taught her a few things: no matter how bad situations were, things could never be altered even if you wanted them to.

Then, a voice disrupted Theon. It made him; Bran, Rickon and the rest of Winterfell turn to the direction of the Iron Islanders, who dragged Ser Rodrick towards him.

“We’ve caught this one on our way from Torrhen’s Square,” one of them said. “He took two of ours before I got his sword.”

Theon approached him and looked at him solemnly as he finally stood before him. “It grieves me that we meet as foes, Ser Rodrick.”

“It grieves me you’ve less honour than a back alley whore,” the old knight retorted. “You were raised here under his roof! These people are your people!”

“They are not my people!” backfired Theon.

“Robb thought you as a brother,” he reminded him.

“My brothers are dead!” he pointed out. “They died fighting Stark men! Men like you!”

“Aye, they died fighting a war your father started!” Rodrick said. “Lord Stark raised you among his own sons!”

“Among them, but not as one of them!” protested Theon. “I was his hostage! Taken from my home!”

Ser Rodrick shook his head in disapproval. “If Lord Stark were alive to see this…”

“He’s not,” Theon declared. “He’s dead. The Seven Kingdoms are at war and Winterfell is mine!”

For a moment, Dale could have sworn that she heard Ser Rodrick growl at him. Or perhaps it was the anger brewing inside the whole citadel in the form of brutal rain.

“I should have put a sword in your belly instead of it on your hand!” he countered with gritted teeth.

“You’ve served his house faithfully, old man. But keep talking and I’ll--” Theon Greyjoy was in the midst of giving a warning, but that was until Ser Rodrick made the reckless decision of spitting at his feet.

People gasped and covered their mouths with their hands as they saw the men beat up Ser Rodrick to the ground. Everyone was distraught as Theon threw a brief tantrum and yelled:

“TAKE HIM TO THE CELLS! LOCK HIM UP AND--!”

“MY PRINCE!” the man named Dagmer disrupted him. It seemed to have irritated the Greyjoy. “You cannot let that stand, he must pay.”

“I’LL LOCK HIM UP IN THE CELLS UNTIL HE ROTS!” Theon protested.

“No,” the man shook his head. “He has to pay the iron price. They’ll never respect you while he lives.”

At that, people muttered again and Theon was silent. The rain fell harder and Theon thought about the idea. He glanced around as he saw the villagers, Dagmer, Ser Rodrick and Bran and Rickon, who panted and panicked. Both knew what was to come, and so did she. This was one of the parts she hated the most, and this time, she was to see it in person, to see it happen right before her eyes – not through her laptop – but through real life. He eyed Dagmer and nodded in agreement. Then, he turned his eyes to Ser Rodrick again. Thunder began to rumble gently.

“Ser Rodrick, I sentence you to death!” he decided.

People gasped and wept as they heard this. Bran dropped his mouth open and Dale could see from the corner of her eye that his tears were about to burst from him.

“NO!” he yelled. “YOU SAID NO HARM WOULD COME TO THEM IF I YIELDED!”

“The old man couldn’t keep his mouth shut!” Theon said as he pointed to him.

“I urge you not to make a haste decision,” adviced Maester Luwin.

“He disrespected me in front of my men!” Theon screamed. “That was his decision, not mine!”

“He is worth to you more alive than dead,” Maester Luwin urged him. “The Stark’s will pay. Please Theon, think of what you do.”

Theon eyed the Maester for a while, and after that, he threatened, “You’ll address me as Prince Theon or you’ll be next.”

Luwin nodded and Dagmer urged the old knight to come, although it was more like he was being dragged by force rather than doing as he told willingly. Theon sniggered and one of the Islanders took out their sword. Dale didn’t know what she found more heartbreaking right now: Rodrick struggling, the people of Winterfell or the cries of Rickon and Bran, begging Theon to spare him whilst the old man had finally reached the execution block, just a small furniture thick enough to resist against the knight’s thick head and beard. Then, Theon approached him and stood before him once again.

“He who passes the sentence should swing the sword, swine!” spat Ser Rodrick.

“NO! I’M BEGGING YOU!” Bran cried in plead.

Slowly, Dale felt her heart shatter and her eyes let loose her tears as she glanced at everything that was happening. His voice rang in her ears, as did Rickon’s. She felt like a ghost watching everything that was happening, letting everything pass. She hated that and now she knew how the Doctor felt when he participated in the Time War, a mere ghost who stood there and did nothing because of all the shock that swelled them.

They placed Ser Rodrick’s head on the block. Bran kept begging. Luwin was about to hold him, but Bran pushed the old man’s arm away. He was about to fall as he kept shouting, but just in time, Dale caught him and held him as tightly as she could despite him trying to fight her grip.

“STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW!” he cried in pained demand.

“You don’t give commands anymore, little lord,” Theon reminded him. “Winterfell is mine.”

“PLEASE STOP THIS!” he kept crying. “PLEASE, SOMEONE STOP HIM!”

Dale wept quietly as she held him, as she leaned her head on his shoulder. It pained her to see this, and the cries made it even worse for her. As she turned her eyes to Ser Rodrick, the man smiled in mutual sadness and soothed him:

“Hush now, child. I’m off to see your father.”

As her tears kept falling, Dale turned her gaze to Bran and tried her best to soothe him as well, stroking his head gently and leaning hers beside his. Bran turned to eye the girl and begged:

“DAELTRIX, PLEASE STOP HIM! HE PROMISED NOT TO!”

Dale nodded and agreed. She wanted to stop him, kill him even, but she was more afraid that perhaps Bran would fall from the barrel he sat on. And like the Doctor said, no matter how much we want to stop bad things from happening, bad things that were supposed to happen, a rift would be far worse than letting it pass. But it did her no harm to speak a few words. “Theon, don’t! You said to Bran that you wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

“Shut up, you whore, and let me do my job!”

Dale bit her lip and tried not to cry. Bran’s words were deafening her, and Dale could no longer hold her sobs.

“YOU SAID NO HARM WOULD COME!” Bran yelled as the people began to panic. “YOU PROMISED! PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU!”

“Any last words, old man?” he questioned as he ignored Bran’s pleas and placed the sword lightly against the man’s neck.

“Gods help you, Theon Greyjoy,” he muttered. “Now you are truly lost.”

Theon muttered another word. Dale didn’t know what, but she did not care. The only think that sank in her head was the shouts of Rickon and Bran and it made her heart drown.

“NO THEON! PLEASE STOP!” shouted Bran even louder. “I’LL DO ANYTHING!”

She felt her blood run like a flood, and it became boiling hot as Theon lifted his sword for the execution.

“NO! STOP!” Dale heard Rickon beg.

And then it all happened right before her eyes: that botched execution. It was just as she remembered. Theon gave out the loudest grunt as he swung down his sword and Rodrick muttered in pain as the first cut did not go through his neck. Bran screamed. Bran wailed. Theon took on a second swing as people gasped, shuddered and cowered. They were all weeping. Bran would not stop crying and Dale hated it when he did that. It always made her feel even worse, especially because she had the chance to stop this from happening, and she never seized to take it, all because the Doctor’s words would always haunt her everywhere she went with him and Clara. The third time was the worst. Bran’s screeches were even worse, as were Rickon’s. Theon swung his sword down again, but this time he had to kick his head just to make it fall down. It rolled and the shock and pain could be seeing right through his severed head. The thunder rolled and banged the clouds violently. Bran kept sobbing as Dale tried to turn him away from the horrible sight.

“Bran, turn away from that, it’s not good for you to see.”

However, the boy ignored her. Bran kept sobbing and her hand dragged his chin to make him look her in the eye as she kept calling his name.

“Bran, Bran! Look at me!” she demanded almost sobbingly.

And this time, Bran did as told. His crying turned almost into a whimper, his lips shook. His eyes glimmered with tears and his skin was completely cold and white. The girl tried her best to hide hers away, but she sucked at that. They kept stinging her hazel and stroked his cheek to sooth both herself and he. She wept just as much as the boy before her. She heard Rickon run to Hodor, which was rare for him to do. He cried as well. This broke her heart.

As she kept caressing Bran, she took a few deep breaths as she whispered to him, “Just look at me and take a deep breath.” She paused for a brief moment. Every time she looked into Bran’s eyes, it became harder for her to forgive, for her to be calm, for her to be strong for both he and Rickon. And it made it even worse as Theon glared at the people of Winterfell and shouted:

“YOU SEE?! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU OPPOSE ME! YOU WILL ALL YIELD TO ME, OR ELSE THE ACTIONS WILL BE THE SAME! NOW GET BACK TO YOUR USUAL TASKS!”

Dale’s gaze was on Theon for a brief while, and slowly she felt herself panting in frustration. Her eyes hurt. She turned to look at Bran Stark one last time.

It all seemed to happen so fast before her eyes. The death was inevitable and seeing the people in fear and hearing their voices made her heart swell to the point of devastation. This made her remember her hidden dagger, and the hidden dagger turned into a tumour that made her anguish grow. This, she did not like. This was unpleasant and she did not know what to do at first, but now that she looked into Bran’s eyes, one thing was for certain: she wanted Theon dead more than anything. This time, she gave no shits about any consequences there could be, and she did not give another shit about the warnings the Doctor always said to her. This was her last straw. She had lost her few friends to the One Eye, the Cybermen, the Daleks and a disease. She had lost her family to an enormous car accident, she lost the Doctor and Clara to a black hole and she was all alone. She didn’t wish this for Bran and Rickon, and it was time she did something about it now.

Suddenly, she let go of Bran, who gave out a yelp she could barely hear. She took out her dagger, and she heard him say the word ‘don’t’. Just this once, she didn’t want to listen to anyone. She felt her arm swing as she gave out a loud grunt – which sounded almost like a scream and threw it right at the heart of an Islander. It narrowly missed Theon’s arm. At this, everyone huffed. The Islander died instantly. She knew Theon was shocked by this, and her eyes had a hint of satisfaction in them. The asshole turned around to glare at her with his widened eyes as Dale straightened herself up and eyed him back. It took him a while to do the same, and eventually, he sniggered, scoffed and said mockingly:

“Lady Daeltrix…” he took a short pause. “I never thought you had that in you. You seem to have become more of a she-wolf over your long stay.” He laughed out of fear. “Not much humanity in you left, is there?”

 _No less than you_ , she thought to herself. She took a few steps forward, darted her eyes at Theon and let him smirk at her even more.

The stupid Iron Prince let out a laugh. “And you’ve changed as well. Looking like a proper princess… but we both know what’s underneath that pretty gown.”

“I would say the same to you, Theon.” She took a short pause. “You shroud yourself under the title ‘Prince’ when we all know you are as bad as the Lannister’s.”

Theon gave no response, but Dale could tell he was not happy to hear this. It was making her even more pleased to a small degree.

“What kind of an ass turns his back from his words?” she questioned and eventually let her lips slip out words she was not meant to say. “Has Lord Eddard Stark taught you nothing about honour?” she kept asking as she added the words that made up all of the Stark’s. “Loyalty, duty dignity, _family_?!”

“Shut up, wench!”

“Why?! Because it’s the truth?!” Dale was now at the brink of screaming. “These people have been nothing but kind to you! The Stark’s took care of you despite the fact that you were supposed to be a hostage! Robb Stark named you his brother and so did Jon! Sansa and Arya thought highly of you, and Brandon and Rickon HAVE DONE NOTHING TO YOU?!” her voice finally raised to yelling. “WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING THIS TO THEM?! WHAT WRONG HAVE THEY DONE YOU?!”

Theon bit his lips, marched his feet towards the girl and slapped her hard on the cheek. People gasped and Bran shouted: “DALE!”

It made a few tears escape her eyes. Dale rubbed her cheek to take away the pain, but the anger she felt more. Once she moved her hand again, she straightened herself up, cleared her throat and merely glared at him. Theon looked down at her and gave out a grunt.

“Such a shame,” he muttered. “A beauty like you, wasted on the Stark’s…” He then grabbed her by the chin and made her look at him. His fingernails were burying slowly into her skin and at that, Dale winced. “They made my brothers die and took me away from my family. Now you will watch as I do the same to them, to make them see how I felt.” Then, his eyes turned to Bran. “Starting with the cripple.”

Dale gasped, widened her eyes and felt her hands slowly turn like claws as she shrieked in anger, swung her arm and scratched his left cheek deeply, almost taking out his eye as well. At that, Theon yelled as he clutched onto her bleeding cheek as the Iron Islanders ushered and uttered to themselves. Some of them ran in time to stop her, and Dale struggled against them. She tried to shake her arms away from them, but their grips were far worse than Theon’s. They were tighter.

“LET GO!” she screamed. “GET OFF ME!”

“Oh no, you won’t escape!” said one.

“YOU WILL DIE RIGHT WHERE YOU STAND, JUST LIKE THE OLD KNIGHT THERE!” shouted another. “LET’S PUT A SWORD THROUGH HER!”

As one of them was about to take out their sword and the two men holding her were spreading her out wide enough to show her covered torso, Theon lifted his hand to stop them and demanded:

“STOP!” and the men did as told. “Death is too good for her.” He took a pause as he approached her once more, stared at her and smirked again. Dale hated it when he did that. “We will humiliate her in some other way.” He then lifted her chin, this time delicately. “You will be my servant, Lady Daeltrix, and you will do as I command if you want to keep your dear dreaded Stark’s alive. Are we clear?”

She gave no response, and she gave no nods. Dale felt stiff as the laughter of men faded through her ears. Knowing the sort of character Theon is, she knew what might come up next: abuse, insults, and men gawping at her… even worse and most likely, rape. She didn’t want to get herself in that situation, but she was so close to it she could taste it. She turned to look at Bran, who shed tears and stared at her, shaking his head and weeping softly. Dale knew what he was thinking: he didn’t want this to happen to her, but she knew she couldn’t get herself out of this, not now anyway. She kept in mind to get another weapon of some sort to defend herself, and she decided that she was not going to let a man get the better of her this time. Sexual desires always made her vulnerable, and she remembered this from her ex-boyfriend. This time, she was not going to let that happen.


	37. Theon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This might have some sexual depictions, whether it's just that or that with violence

Hours have passed by and Theon Greyjoy was now in his room. He waited at his bed, keen for this part of the day where he was now to be served a drink of wine before his bedtime. It was something he installed for a daily routine, and he intended to keep it that way if he were to be Prince of Winterfell now. The girl, now a slave to him, came in, lacking the coverings for a cold night, dressed with her corset to cover her flat belly and small round breasts and a long sarong that fell down to her ankles. Her feet were bare, and Theon was happy to see that the girl got herself dressed in that manner, and it was as he commanded her to. She looked so ravishing, even more so than the day she had woken up and met them all officially. He smirked and demanded:

“Fill my cup now.”

Daeltrix frowned. “Yes, my lord.” Then, she did as told.

She walked towards a small desk, took the cup and poured in the red wine. Once she was done, she brought it to Theon and handed it to him carefully. That made him smirk even more. The thought of a woman merely wearing a corset and a long skirt whilst giving him a cup started to make him hard between his legs, and he liked that feeling. As he kept staring at her, he drank from his cup, swallowed the fluid and licked his lips with lust. Wine was his favourite thing to drink, but what made it even better was that it was served by a girl that was to be controlled by him alone, and Daeltrix at that.

Once he finished his drink, he placed the cup at the side, took off his shirt whilst the girl glanced elsewhere, and Theon stood from his bed. He then stepped away from his cot as he demanded the girl:

“Come closer, my lady. I’d love to have a closer look at you.”

Daeltrix was reluctant to do as told this time, but regardless of that she did. It must have been because she was staring right at his chest, to Theon’s amusement. She took small steps towards him. She stood there meekly and blinked her hazel eyes as Theon grunted in thought and kept gawping at her. This really was making her feel uncomfortable, but Theon Greyjoy did not care. She was his now, to do as he pleased. He had always thought of pleasuring himself with her eventually, and now he was about to get his wish. His hands eventually began rubbing her shoulders, slithering down the girl’s arms whilst ignoring her small shudders. It was as he had imagined when he saw her, and every time he stared at her when he was still with the Stark’s, he would picture her naked and fucking him in his bed. That was an image he could never get off his head, and it was still there when he left with Robb. He remembered having that one conversation with Dagmer, when they were about to sail elsewhere…. Well, Theon couldn’t remember where, but he eventually began speaking of Winterfell and the girl he wanted to fuck.

“She must sound like a total pleaser,” Dagmer said about her.

At that, he scoffed. “The complete opposite, actually. Feisty and violent if you ask me. She’s quite unusual as well.”

He cackled at that. “And being unusual is a reason to fuck a girl?”

Theon pouted. “In this case, yes.”

At this, Dagmer laughed and eventually they decided to invade Winterfell: so he could fuck the living shit out of her. Daeltrix was pretty much one of the reasons why he decided this, and Theon had no regrets about that. None at all.

He remembered this briefly as his hands somehow reached her waist. He didn’t pay attention to that, and he didn’t care. His hands kept rubbing, slowly and smoothly. He gave out another grunt of pleasure, obviously liking what he was seeing and feeling. For the brief while he saw Daeltrix with Robb, Bran and Rickon, he had always fantasized about touching her in this manner, and it didn’t matter whether she was younger than him, and smaller in stature. He had fucked the sailor’s daughter on his way to Pyke, but this was much better than the time he spent with the blabber-mouth and it was something he intended to be pleased by. He readied himself by undoing his breeches and taking them off as he buried his lips at the nook of her neck. Then, he did the same with his small clothes. Once he was done, he pulled her closer to him, holding her tightly. Daeltrix struggled and tried to get him off, but it was obvious that Theon’s strength was too great for her. His lips slowly crawled up as the girl winced and moaned softly. Theon liked to think that he was penetrating her to submission, and then, he whispered to her ear:

“Men from the Iron Islands never have enough women to fuck.” He rubbed his head next to hers. “That’s why we always take saltwives for satisfaction. Because we never get enough from them.” Then, his hand was placed at her breast, and at that, she gasped softly and whimpered. “You know, I’ve really wanted to _fuck_ you for a long time, ever since we found you by the godswood.”

The girl panted and winced. “You don’t say...”

“Mmm-hmm...” His lips brushed her soft cheek as he kept muttering, “You are free from the Stark’s, and you are mine now.”

Rushingly, Theon decided to dig his lips against hers, as if mauling her like an animal. About to grab her leg, he suddenly felt a hard hit on his cock and at that, he groaned loudly. Ushering himself away from the girl, he had realized it was her knee that assailed him just then. He looked furiously up and down at her as he tried to relieve his cock’s unwanted pain.

“You little ferret!” he spat at her.

“Call me what you wish,” she retorted back. “I am not yours to take.”

This made him angry. “Yes, you are, Lady Daeltrix. You will be my saltwife!”

“Oh and what makes you think that?!” she shouted. “You may now call yourself Prince of Winterfell, _Greyjoy_ ,” she spat the name with venom. “But I am not going to be anyone’s saltwife, and I am certainly not your property!”

“You’ll be mine if I say so!” he shrieked as he then pushed her brutally against the wall, pinned his hands as if to block both sides and trapping her.

“JUST GET OFF ME!”

Theon said no word. He merely licked her throat whist holding her. In between moans and struggling, she kept demanding, screaming for him to get off her, but he never listened. About to lift her skirt, the girl reached for a small knife and dug it deep in his shoulder. Theon shrieked again.

“OOOOOOOOUUUUCH!!!”

Theon shoved himself away from her as Daeltrix exhaled and glared at him furiously. The Iron Prince panted, felt his hand shake a bit as he tried to reach for the dagger that was plunged in him. He then glared back at her with hat painful glance of his as he then took out the small blade and shouted:

“YOU BITCH!!!!”

Daeltrix took out another dagger she hid. “Stay back!”

Theon looked puzzled. “Why?! You’re mine now! You’re my saltwife!”

She scoffed and shook her head. “No I’m not! I’m not yours to take and I’m not your property!” She took a short pause. “How many times do I have to tell you this?! I wouldn’t fuck a traitor and a swine like you in a thousand years!”

“I may be a traitor, but I’m not a swine!” he pointed out. “AND YOU WILL FUCK ME!”

“No, I won’t! Not in the will of the Stark’s!” she declared.

“After everything that’s happened you’re still loyal to those wolf-spawns?! After I made you my servant?!”

“Servant or no, I will never be loyal to you!” she defied boldly. “I wouldn’t give two shits about you, whether you die or not! You weren’t the one who welcomed me here, Robb was! And then, when _you_ and Robb left, Bran became my constant companion and Rickon saw me as a sister! You’ve done nothing to show me any kindnesses!” She took a short pause. “You merely smirked, stared and made japes, which I did not like! I would do anything for the Stark’s and there’s nothing you can do to change that!”

“Oh…” he growled and shook his head and pointed at her. “I will do everything I can to change that, you just watch me!”

She laughed. “You poor loser…”

“Keep talking back at me and I will hurt those boys right before your eyes. I will slit Rickon’s throat and make you drink his blood, and I will make my dogs fuck the living shit out of Bran--!”

She slapped him hard on the face and Theon’s cheek turned blood red. It hurt so much it was something he never felt. Some men said that a woman’s slap on the face burnt hotter than fire. It seems they had been right. To soothe himself, he rubbed his cheek softly and tenderly. He groaned under his breath, blinked his eyes and looked at her with a shocked gaze.

“How dare you?” he questioned almost in a spitting whisper.

She shook her head; her lips looked stiff and muttered in a threatening voice as she pointed at him with her armed hand, “Don’t you ever threaten the life of those boys. Do you understand?” For a while, things were silent. “For if you do, I will sneak at you in the dead of night and I will fucking kill you without a second thought. Do you understand?”

Theon scoffed. “You women…”

“And don’t even think about getting your dogs anywhere near Bran! For if you do, I will castrate the living shit out of you and I will watch you cry as people of Winterfell decide to take a stand and they cut every living organ from you and cook it in the fire!”

Theon had no words to return that with. How on earth was he to threaten her back if she went to the extremes? He knew she’d be influenced by the temper of Stark’s, but he never realized how bad she would be. It was said that Lyanna was a she-wolf and that Brandon had the wolf blood in him. This must be something far worse than that. The only thing Theon could do was take a big gulp of air, dart at her eyes and chuckle nervously just so he could say something to make her lose her nerves.

“You’ve been fucking the cripple, haven’t you?”

Her eyes seemed to quiver. For a while, she gave no answer and slowly she lowered her dagger as she stared right at him and spat: “No.” She took a deep breath. “I would never do that to him. Not like you do that to whores.”

He laughed for a while, and at that, the girl seemed confused. “Oh Lady Daeltrix… You are devilishly charming and you are a terrible liar. I can see right through your eyes that you _have_ fucked him.” He then lifted her chin with one finger. “So, tell me? How does it feel to open up your legs to a young cripple? Oh, it must feel so good, wouldn’t it?” he mocked and laughed. He knew it was true. “Well, he will become a young lord, and he will be looking for other women and he won’t want you anymore, probably the same way an old lover of yours disdained you.” He chuckled as Daeltrix looked distraught and shocked. “Yes, I did hear about that, and it must have been well deserved for you. That must really hurt.” Then, he took a short pause. “Bran will be the same when he grows up. No man can ever be good to a wife, so tell me, how does it feel now that you know that you are worthless little shit and--?”

Before he could finish his sentence, it seemed as though Daeltrix had lost her patience for him. She held tightly onto her dagger and slashed it across his face, leaving a long diagonal mark from the left side of his forehead to the right cheek. At this, he screamed. He took his hand away and slowly collapsed to the ground on his knees. Daeltrix ran, and this, Theon ignored. He may have wanted to fuck her before, but now he wanted her dead. He never realized until now how much of a bitch Lady Daeltrix was.


	38. Daeltrix

She ran and she sobbed. She lifted her skirt up to let her feet gallop faster, and deep inside she felt ashamed for breaking her own promise. For a brief while, Theon got the better of her, and she almost fucked him at his dorm. She let him touch her breast, kiss the nook of her neck and lick her throat. That was so disgusting; Dale had no idea what to think of herself. How could she let this happen? How could she turn her back on her own word?

She must have thought about her ex when Theon touched her, and that disturbed her more than anything. She hated his words and she had lost it when she indirectly mentioned him. He was something she hated to remember, and Theon triggered that.

She ran and she ran. She kept running, up the stairs, through the corridors and through doors. She wanted to go elsewhere, anywhere but the dorm of Theon. She hated him, and she wanted to kill him. She almost did, but her aim was amiss. She almost gorged his eye out, but she could not get herself to let his ball bleed out blood and goo.

She was a coward. She had always been. Everyone told her so, and it was no lie. As violent as she was, she showed cowardice, and that proved that everyone was right about her, the one argument every person made when she encountered them, even her friends.

Unconsciously, she opened a door and shut it brutally. She didn’t care about where she was and she only wanted to be away from the stupid Greyjoy.

For a while, she faced the oak, clawing her hand, leaning her forehead against the gate and weeping. Slowly, she felt herself collapse to the ground. Her knees were weak, her body shook, and she could not cover up her feelings anymore. She would rather cry until she died than to live and know that she was too afraid to kill Theon. She hated that feeling more than anything.

 

As her knees were about to touch the ground, she heard a voice call her.

“Daeltrix?”

Dale gave out a small gasp and turned as soon as she heard who it was. She saw Bran sitting up on the bed, looking at her with concern and tilting his head in question.

It was now when she realized that she had entered inside Bran’s room.

 

_Why Bran’s room, by the way?_

 

Dale blinked her eyes, wiped her tears away and took a short sniff.

“Bran…” she breathed.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You look like you’re crying.”

 _I am crying, little one. I just don’t want you to know_. She gave out a small grin. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just a bit exhausted.” She then stood up.

Bran looked at her as Dale approached him slowly, and when she did so, she sat at his bed. Dale gave out a sigh and stared at him for the long while as she stroked his hair away from his face. His eyes were red, probably from crying as well, and now the girl really wished she took the chance to kill Theon when she was at his dorm.

She knew it was a stupid question, but she asked anyway: “How are you feeling?”

He looked meekly at her and shrugged. “I don’t know.” He took a pause. “I feel like I should hate him but I can’t. It’s hard to know what to think.”

Then, Dale began stroking his cheek. “I understand.”

She gave out a sigh and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Everything will be alright somehow.” She then hesitated for the brief moment. “I know it will be.”

Bran glanced down at his lap. “I-I just don’t understand why Theon’s doing this to us.”

 _Because he’s an ass_. “I actually don’t know either. I wish I knew, though.”

Bran looked at her again and blinked his meek brown eyes. This time, though, they slowly turned shocked as he glanced at her for the while. Dale didn’t understand why, but he did. The girl tilted her head a bit and asked, “What is it?”

“Y-you have blood on you.”

Dale blinked her eyes and thought about this for a while. She then looked down at herself and realized that Bran was right: she had trinkets of blood on her corset and her shoulders. Perhaps she had some unnoticeable ones as well at her throat and face. Dale didn’t give a care. She looked back at the boy as he questioned:

“D-did Theon hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No, Bran. He didn’t.”

“Then where did it come from?”

Dale studied his worried face for a long time. She didn’t want to tell him what happened when she went to ‘serve’ the Greyjoy and make things up instead. But how could she lie to someone like Bran? She’s already lied to him about who she really is, and this was different. Whether she liked it or not, she knew she had to tell him anyway.

“I took a strike on Theon Greyjoy, with knives.” She took a gulp of air. “He deserved it.”

Bran looked shocked and upset. He shook his head as he said, “Daeltrix, you shouldn’t have done that! Not on my behalf or Rickon’s!”

“I had to!” she insisted. “He was threatening me with _your_ life, as well as your brother’s. He told me that he’d have you both killed if I didn’t become his saltwife. It was a horrible offer.” Bran kept staring as she took a deep breath. “And not just that, he eventually provoked me to anger.”

Bran looked sadly at her. “And what did he say to you?”

She shook her head lightly. “You don’t want to know, Bran. You just don’t.” She smiled sadly at him. “I don’t want to horrify you any more than he did.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

With a bit of gratitude, she gave out a small grin. She gave out another sigh and bid him to come nearer. Bran obeyed and gave her a hug as he began to sob again. Dale hushed him gently as she rubbed his back and stroked his head. She leaned her cheek and felt her tears cascading. She took a few breaths to calm herself down, to be strong for Bran right now. Bran kept crying, his arms becoming tighter around her as he spoke with his breaking voice:

“I-I d-don’t understand. Why did he do this to us? Did he really hate us that much?”

“I wish I knew,” Dale answered in return. “But one thing’s for sure. Theon’s a monster that’s come from the sea. He wants to hurt us all and I will not let that happen. I promise you that.” _And I will hurt him for this someday, when his eyes run with blood and his mouth tastes bitter and his face decays. A quick death is too good for him; a slow one is what he deserves_.


	39. The Doctor

He shut the door after breakfast and made his way through the corridor. He walked the long corridors and found that everyone else was walking the opposite way. The Doctor didn’t know why, but he really couldn’t care less, yet at the same time it made him curious. But he couldn’t waste any more time, anyway. He had work to do.

As he kept walking by, he heard someone call out to him.

“So how was your sleep last night?”

The Doctor turned around to see Sansa Stark, smiling at him with genuine gladness, which was something she seldom did in the books. The Time Lord did the same for her. “Better, after out short conversation.”

Sansa chuckled a bit. “Did you hear any voices after that?”

Pfft… of course he did. The Doctor still heard the voices after his short conversation, but it was not something he was ready to admit to anyone and it’s definitely something he should say to anyone, so he shook his head instead. “Nah, they’ve gone after I came back.” He took a short pause. “Anyway, did you want to take a stroll with me, my lady?”

She shook her head. “I can’t, Mister Doctor. There’s somewhere else I have to go.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Go where?”

“To the docks, like everyone else,” Sansa answered. “We’re to say farewell to Princess Myrcella.”

The Doctor blinked his eyes. He heard the name before, but he had forgotten who she was. “And who’s that?”

“The Queen’s daughter.”

Ah, of course, it was a character he didn’t care about and a good reason too: she was Cersei Lannister’s daughter. No wonder he forgot about her. He nodded. “And where’s she going?”

“To Dorne. She’s to marry Prince Trystane from the House of Martell.”

The Doctor gave out a pretend frown. He actually could not care less. “Well, it’s a sad thought, having a daughter separated from her mother.” _But it’s a happy thought if it’s a bitch like Cersei_.

She nodded lightly. “It is, Mister Doctor.”

Slightly irritated: “Please, I told you to--”

“I know,” she said. “But I prefer Mister Doctor for the time being, if you don’t mind.”

The Doctor was so annoyed. He remembered clearly that he told her to call him ‘Doctor’, but instead she went for ‘Mister Doctor’. Well, he really couldn’t bother arguing, so instead he gave a forced smile. “Alright then. And where is Dorne?” He knew where it was, actually, but it’s just to make a short conversation.

“Very far away,” she answered. “I’m not sure which direction, though.” She took a pause as she seemed to think to herself for the brief while. “I hope the Princess will be happy.”

The Doctor forced a nod. “I hope so too.”

As he was about to leave, Sansa seemed a bit surprised. “B-but aren’t you coming, ser?”

The Doctor turned around. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone else is going to see her departure. Aren’t you?”

He pouted his lip and shook his head. “No, I can’t. There are things I have to take care of.” He gave a curt nod. “I hope you can understand that.”

The girl nodded. “Of course. But will I see you around later?”

The Doctor smiled. “You most certainly will.”

Sansa grinned back and curtsied at him. Then, she left. The Doctor was now good to go.

 

*       *       *

 

He had finally arrived at the shore, where the TARDIS stayed and no one disturbed it. He knew today he would have more time, for everyone would be focusing on the departure of Princess Myrcella. He won’t be missed for another minute.

The Doctor entered inside his TARDIS and began to tidy things up, placing books back in shelves (with the exception of Daeltrix’s, which he needed to have a look at again), and devices went back where they belonged. Overall, it took him one whole hour to do all of this. Once he was finished, he glanced around to make sure everything was in place. Then, he turned to open up one of Daeltrix’s books. Something odd happened though: he flicked through some of the pages, some were with words, but most were blank. At this, the Doctor blinked his eyes and approached his face closer to it.

How on earth did this happen?

No, this could not happen. This could not… The Doctor flicked through a few more blank pages, and then he went on to the next. They were becoming blank as well, as was the next. As strange as this could be, the Doctor found it odd to even comprehend this. What sort of hole did they fall into?

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening, this _shouldn’t_ happen,” the Doctor muttered to himself.

Something was so wrong here, the Doctor knew. But the TARDIS’s energy got exhausted after what happened at the black hole. He had already sensed that the moment he found it. The ship needed rest, and that sucked. How long will he have to wait until it’s finally boosted up and if he could go sooner, which what could he boost it up? The answer is nothing. There is no Time Lord technology in King’s Landing. This was a primitive city compared to where he comes from, these people would know nothing. Then, his thoughts turned to his copies, and the Doctor grabbed them in a heartbeat. He went through all the pages of each book. His tomes were completely fine. So why are Daeltrix’s books messed up? This was something very interesting to investigate, and he wanted more than anything to stay in the TARDIS and make his theories. However, should he stay there for a long while, people would start noticing, so instead, he grabbed a satchel where he placed his copies, Daeltrix’s and plenty of notebooks and pens for him to write (for he hated the quills they used there).

 

*       *       *

 

The Doctor got out of the TARDIS and locked it, headed towards the city and treaded carefully. For some reason, it seemed as today was to be a foul day. From afar, he could hear hubbub and shouting, brewing into a climax of blubbering. Something was wrong. The Doctor knew something from the book was about to happen. He better tread even more carefully now or else feel sorry for not doing so.


	40. Sansa

Sansa kept watching on like everyone else as the ship left with Princess Myrcella in it. The girl kept weeping as the Septon uttered out his extremely annoying voice. Sansa knew it was rude to think this, but she really wished more than anything that the fat man could shut his mouth and stop squawking.

The Septon kept talking on and on as she heard Queen Cersei mutter about something she could not hear. It was brief. Sansa knew that. What she didn’t understand is why the imp left early (although there were a few people leaving as well.)

Then, the redhead turned back to the view, and she heard Tommen sniffing. The septa went towards him and wiped his tears away with a handkerchief. As the woman did so, Joffrey scoffed and said:

“You sound like a dying cat mewling for his mother! Princes don’t cry.”

Sansa found it ironic how Joffrey was saying that. “I saw you cry…” she muttered.

Joffrey turned to look at her angrily. “Did you say something, my lady?”

Sansa gazed back at the King. “My little brother cried when I left Winterfell.”

Joffrey pouted his ugly lip. “So?”

She hesitated for a moment. “I-it seems a normal thing.”

Joffrey scoffed again. “Is your little brother a prince?”

“No, your Grace,” she affirmed.

He shook his head. “Not really relevant, is it?” He stared at Sansa for a while, and then he gave out a groan. “Come dog!”

The Hound, ever so obedient to the King, followed him, and with every other soldier, Joffrey left, as did everyone else.

 

*      *      *

 

Joffrey walked with the guards as people kept on staring at him.

“Hail Joffrey!” a man cried. “Hail to the King!”

Someone else laughed as they kept on walking.

“Seven blessings on you, your grace!” cried another.

“Murderer!” cried a third man. “Bastard!”

“You all hail to the king!” insisted one of them.

“He’s no king!” cried someone else. “He’s a bastard!”

Then, people laughed and began to shout insults. Sansa began to be scared.

“Please, your grace! Give us some food!” a poor beggar shouted.

“Freak!” yelled a stranger.

The shouting of people was becoming into one large crescendo. Sansa knew bad things would come of this, and it seemed as though Tyrion Lannister sensed it too. He went towards one guard and commanded:

“Get the Prince back to the keep, now!”

“Yes, my lord,” obliged the man. To Tommen: “Come quickly.”

Then, he brought Prince Tommen and the Septa with him.

“Please your grace!” shouted a woman. “Give us some food!”

“Bread, your Grace! Please!” begged another.

Everyone kept looking around whilst they walked onwards. Sansa felt her heart beat faster, and her fear grew, almost prickling out of her skin. Her blue eyes kept blinking, the voices around them grew into climax, and suddenly, they all heard a loud thud. Sansa turned to see where the noise came from and saw that cow-pie had been thrown at Joffrey – something that he deserved, yet an action that brought bad consequences as well. Joffrey kept groaning and looking around furiously as he began to yell:

“Who threw that?!”

No one gave an instant response, so guards began to beat people away.

“I WANT THE MAN WHO THREW THAT TO ME!” screamed Joffrey in demand. “FIND HIM AND BRING HIM TO ME!”

It all happened too fast. People began to punch their way out of there whilst guards halted some of them and began to stab them all to death. The shouts kept ringing at the streets of King’s Landing, and Joffrey’s mind changed so quickly a person would think the crack of an egg would be so slow.

“KILL THEM!” he decided. “KILL THEM ALL!”

The shouts grew even more, beyond climax, and Sansa began to panic just like any other sane person. Men began to beat falling guards, and more of the kingsguard began to shove the poor villages to the ground, kill them even.

“Move! Move!” she heard Tyrion uttering loud.

“Pull back!” shouted one of the guards as the Hound grabbed hold of Joffrey.

“WHAT ARE YO DOING?!” he squealed. “I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL EXECUTED!”

“And they want the same for you,” retorted the Hound as he kept dragging the King onwards.

The riot kept happening. It was all nonstop. It had gone to madness, and Sansa and the other women resorted to running away to other alleyways. She did not care where, but she wanted to be as far away from the Lannister’s as possible, and she had achieved that in no time, although, she kept running. She had sprinted so fast, she had eventually lost herself and wondered where she was, half relieved, half scared. However, it became more the latter as men had cackled and found her. At this, Sansa gasped and began to run for her life again.


	41. Tyrion

Tyrion had no idea what shocked him more: the fact that the Hound was killing people whilst dragging the idiot king, the shouts of every single villager or the thing that happened next. As everyone kept moving, Tyrion watched on as the Septon was being approached by a brutal hoard of people. Tyrion looked very much in shock as he saw them all closing in on the poor man and ripping him into pieces. There and then, the Septon died. And Tyrion looked even more livid when he saw that the people were cheering and holding out the Septon’s severed arm. It was then when he realized the safety of the Stark girl was important for the sake of swapping Jaime, for anything could happen to her right here and right now.

“Where is Sansa?” he heard himself mutter in frustration.

It would have been hard for him to go elsewhere, so he kept going towards the Red Keep. The Hound shouted as did other men. The clashing voices kept ringing around King’s Landing, and eventually inside his head. The riot kept going as the soldiers, Cersei, Joffrey and Tyrion kept going towards the keep. A man’s face had been slashed before them, but no one paid mind to that, for their safety seemed more important at the moment.

“PROTECT THE KING!” shouted one of the kingsguards.

“GET BACK!”

“FALL BACK!”

And so on and so forth, they kept shouting commands. They all kept going as people kept protesting and dong to much violent shit. This should not have happened, and it did because of his stupid nephew. There would be days in which Tyrion would wish more than anything that he could kill his nephew, and today was one of those days. Finally, they have arrived at the Red Keep and everyone but Sansa Stark managed to get in, just in time to stop from other unwanted villagers entering. Other people from court still came in, though.

“TRAITORS!” screamed Joffrey in outrage. “I’LL HAVE AL THEIR HEADS!”

“Oh you blind bloody fool!” exclaimed Tyrion in hysteria.

“YOU CAN’T INSULT ME!”

“I _can_ , I _am_!” the dwarf retorted back. “We’ve had vicious kings, and we’ve had idiots kings, but I don’t know if we’ve ever been cursed with a vicious idiot king!”

“THEY ATTACKED ME!” protested the king.

“YOU IDIOT!” shouted Tyrion. “They threw cow pie at you and now you just want to kill them all?! They are _starving_ out there, and all because of a war _you’ve_ started!”

“YOU’RE TALKING TO A KING!” Joffrey yelled.

Suddenly, Tyrion struck his nephew and the boy yelped in pain. “AND NOW I’VE STRUCK A KING!” he described and put his hand before Joffrey. “Did my hand fall off my wrist?!”

Joffrey whimpered to himself as he rubbed his cheek gently with his hand.

“Where’s the Stark girl?” that thought suddenly came in mind.

“UGH! LET THEM HAVE HER!” hissed the boy.

Tyrion could not believe what he was hearing. “If she dies, you’ll never get your Uncle Jaime back! You owe him quite a bit, you know!” Then, he turned to Ser Meryn. “Take some men and go find the Stark girl!”

“I only take orders from the king, _imp_!” disobeyed the man.

At this, Tyrion gave out a fuming groan, feeling like a dragon heating up its fire. Then, he turned to Joffrey, who looked disapprovingly and left to go inside the keep. The boy was seriously inconsiderate and an idiot, the one word that could never come out of Tyrion’s head thus far. That brainless idiot made the stupid decision to make this all happen instead… he really wished he decided instead to turn the other cheek and leave for the keep more quietly. But this was Joffrey Baratheon, the son of his sister, those things could never happen at all.

“What’s happened?” asked the voice of the Doctor.

The imp turned around and saw the tall old man there. He looked at him in shock. “Doctor… how on earth did you get past all those people?”

“I just did, I was lucky,” he answered. “What’s going on here?”

Tyrion gave out a heavy sigh. “My nephew made the idiotic decision of ‘killing them all’. I swear to the gods, there has never been anyone worse at all.”

The Doctor seemed clueless. “What, how on earth did that start?”

“By people throwing shit at him.”

The Doctor shook his head. It was clear through his gaze that the man thought of it as trouble. “Well, that’s not good.”

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “And now, his betrothed is missing and Joffrey won’t go looking for her!”

The man seemed more shocked. “His betrothed?!”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Sansa Stark.”

He seemed even more concerned now. “B-but why on earth would you leave your betrothed out there?!”

Tyrion scoffed. “I don’t know! But one thing is for certain: my nephew is the most selfish bastard I’ve ever known.”


	42. Sansa

Sansa kept running, and eventually, she entered inside a stable. The men kept chasing her and they would not stop. They kept coming. Sansa had nowhere to run. She was surrounded and stuck, and the only alternative she had was to punch the nearest man that approached her. However, when she did that, the man stroke her so hard she fell to the ground that was filled with straw. After that, she tried to crawl her way out of there, only to be laughed at and grabbed.

“Where are you going?” asked one of them in mockery.

Men kept cackling at her. They turned her around and ripped her dress open. At this, Sansa whimpered, and one of them approached her ear and muttered loudly:

“Have you ever been _fucked_ , little girl?”

 _No… this could not be happening! This could not!_ Sansa could not believe what was about to happen to her now. This was the last thing she had ever wanted for herself, and all of this happened because of stupid Joffrey Baratheon.

“COME HERE!” yelled one of them.

Sansa kept sobbing as some of the men held her down, whilst the rest spread her kicking legs apart. Whilst the only ne left was undoing his breeches, the others kept insulting and taunting her. She had no idea why, but they were. For some reason, they must have hated her so much. Sansa kept crying and kept shaking her head. She kept struggling against them as she kept screaming for help, for this to not happen, for them to let her go. But no one would listen. Her cries became louder and her legs were spread further. It really hurt her more than anything.

For that one moment, she prayed to the gods that she were to be saved, and a few minutes after, it happened. Out of nowhere, the Hound appeared and had slain all the men before him, some of which their heads cut off whilst the rest were stabbed. Sansa had no idea what was happening to her, it went y all too fast. Before, she was about to be raped by a hoard of men, and then she was saved by the Hound.

 

What on earth was happening?

 

In no time, they were all dead before her and the Hound. The giant of a man turned to look at her, and Sansa blinked her meek blue eyes at him. He gave out a sigh and said:

“It’s alright, little bird. It’s alright.”

Before she could say anything to him, the guard helped her up and dragged her all the way to the keep. How he did so whilst killing others to make way she did not know, but the only thing she could comprehend was the fact that he had saved her and it was something she should be grateful for, although somehow, she did not have the guts to tell him so.

 

Eventually, they reached the Keep whilst they let other men and women be killed by the guards outside. The Hound kept guiding her and Sansa kept glancing around.

“This way.”

At this, the dwarf turned to Sansa and questioned: “Are you hurt, my lady?”

Sansa gave no response. She was too hurt and too traumatized to even say something to anyone. Instead, she leaned herself against the wall as the women ushered around her and had a good look at her. However, her gaze was not on them, it was on Mister Doctor, who looked at her with genuine concern.

“Little bird is bleeding,” answered the Hound instead. “Someone should take her back to her cage, see to her cut.”

As the women were bringing inside the castle, her eyes were still kept on the Doctor, who stood there solemnly.

“Well done, Clegane,” Sansa heard the imp’s fading voice saying.

Then, the Hound said something else, but she did not hear what. Everything that happened was too hard to even understand. Everything happened too fast and this day was really one in which she really wished she could have pushed Joffrey to the bottom when he brought her to see her father’s head on a spike.


	43. Chapter 43

Night-time fell onto Meereen and Clara dined with the Mother of Dragons again. As her fingers kept fiddling with the grapes she picked, Clara asked:

“So, how was your day, my lady?”

Daenerys gave out a sigh. “Tough… I had to deal with a great ordeal of people at the pyramid.”

“What kind of people?” Clara was intrigued to know.

Daenerys took a quick gulp of water from her cup, then she placed it down. “Slaves, wealthy men, children… All types, actually.”

Clara had her cup filled. “And what were they about?”

The Khaleesi gave out a sigh. “I was told one of the children admired me, which was quite flattering.” She took a pause. “Most of them, though, were about people wanting slavery again.”

“Oh, why?” Clara was curious to know.

“Because it seems I have complicated things for them with the refugee centres. I found it shocking at first, but then I understood why, so I had to let them be again.”

The brown-haired woman smiled. “I’m sure this would be for a good reason. I don’t see why they would want to be slaves again if ever they were maltreated.”

“That’s true,” the woman agreed reluctantly. “I guess there are things that I have to understand.”

Clara smile at that as she took a piece of fruit to finish off her meal. Daenerys took a small breath and said:

“And then one of them came over to me, telling me that two of my dragons had burnt a child alive.”

At this, Clara was shocked. “Oh?”

At this, Daenerys nodded. “I was very disappointed, and it seems as though they’re becoming dangerous.” She took a short pause. “I had to lock them up in the end.”

“That’s sad…” said she, as she finished nibbling her grape.

“I know…” muttered Daenerys. “They’re like my children. If anything, they’re the only children I will ever have, not that it matters anyway.”

Clara smiled in sympathy. Had she been nearer, she would have placed her hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you will someday. You’ll be a good mother if you do.”

Daenerys grinned back at her. “Thank you, Clara Oswald.”

“You’re welcome my lady.”

After that, nothing else was said. They merely kept eating dinner for the rest of the hour.


End file.
